


One of Those Days

by darklildevil



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23062294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darklildevil/pseuds/darklildevil
Summary: Some days are good. Some are bad. Some are so impossibly against you, they defy reason.That's the day Carlos is having.And what's the deal with Hook?Or how Carlos has a friend prior to the core four, and how that changes everything for him.
Relationships: Harry Hook/Carlos de Vil
Comments: 85
Kudos: 353





	1. Chapter 1

Not everything that could go wrong, had to go wrong. It just did. Because obviously, the Gods were watching Carlos De Vil, eating popcorn and laughing their asses off at the poor sod. Trying to out-do each other for most inventive misfortunes that could befall the poor lad.

For a gloomy and depressing place, the Isle of the Lost was really delivering today; sheets of icy rain stabbing across the dim island. Carlos knew this better than most as he could feel each droplet sting as it hit his skin; face, arms, neck and shins, as he washed his mothers car.

Yes. That's right, as he washed a car in the middle of a freaking storm. Not his choice, in case you were wondering. Like a sane person, he would rather be inside. Well, actually, that depended on the inside he supposed.

If it meant inside Hell Hall with his mother, then he would rather take his chances out in the storm. But other insides (like his tree-house, or Mal's hangout, even the school) much much preferable.

After the day he'd had though, what with the Gods plotting against him all day -he was positive of it- the young man dare not forsake his task for mere weather.

As he scrubbed with the threadbare rag, suds washing away before they even had a chance of touching paint, he pondered.

Where had his day gone so wrong? When had it taken such a turn?

It had started out like any other, with a list of chores to complete before school- most of which he completed every morning. And so yeah he maybe skipped a few but really, who could tell if the dusting was only done every other day, or if the furs were fluffed that morning or the one previous? Cruella had never caught him so far and Carlos was careful not to get lazy, not to push too far.

So he'd done a handful of chores and called it good enough, before grabbing his bag and heading to school. He was even running on time to swing through the market, where he could hopefully snag himself some lunch, maybe even breakfast. Evil knew his mother wasn't going to provide for him.

Then he'd been seen stealing- which led to a full-speed acrobatic display across the market, over buildings, through and around- any course was free game for the fleeing Carlos. Most stall owners gave up at the edge of market (knowing the longer they were gone, the more product would have wondered off in their absence).

From there to school had been a matter of ducking and weaving around other people. Keeping himself to himself was what Carlos felt was almost a speciality of his.

Which was perhaps why running face first into Harry Hook without even having noticed the other boys presence, was rather embarrassing. It's not like he'd even been hiding around a blind corner- Carlos had just been so busy scanning the area around himself (beside, up, down, behind, beside) he'd completely blanked on the straight ahead. Where Harry and Jonas had apparently been walking- letting Carlos blunder directly into his arms, like a complete moron.

Maybe that was when his day had truly turned. No good day involved an encounter with any of the pirates, but especially not Hook (the psychotic first mate). 

“Well, well, look who's throwing themselves at me today.”

Jonas chuckled, leaning against a far-from-clean wall, clearly content to observe. 

“Looks like Cruella's pup, what with the spots and all.”

Carlos stood frozen, Hook's arms having wrapped around him on impact and being yet to release him. Play dead, play dead, play dead.

“Aye, a pup. Look at those eyes, just begging me not to kick him. Ha!”

Hook lifted Carlos' chin up (via hook, thankfully not the pointed tip though) and was staring into his eyes. Which doesn't sound that bad.

Until it's Harry Hook's icy cold, manic blue eyes that you're staring into. Then it's pretty bad. Add in the heavy eyeliner – seemingly extra heavy and smudged today- and Carlos was fairly convinced he was about to suffer from a heart attack. Any Isle kid knew that Hook's makeup was in direct connection with his intent to harm that day – it was his war paint, donned when he was heading to battle. Interacting with him when he wore it was rather suicidal.

“H-Hi Harry. Jonas.”

A quick glance at Jonas showed red war paint on his cheeks, proving his theory once again. The older boys were out to fight and Carlos had walked right into them, like a sacrificial lamb.

“It speaks! Fancy that, Jonny, a speaking mutt. It's like magic- on our wee Isle.”

Red blossomed across his cheeks and Carlos knew he couldn't stop it. One too many times his mother had called him a puppy in public, and now he was never going to live it down. Ever. Kids on the Isle would ensure this stuck with him all the way to his grave.

He waited silently (biting his tongue to do so) knowing anything he said would immediately be used against him. Maybe they'd get bored of waiting for him to entertain them and carry on about their day. 

Meanwhile, it wasn't so bad. Harry smelt way better than Carlos had ever imagined (not that he went around imagining how Hook would smell. Not at all. At least, not often.) mostly leather and salt with a hint of rum and sweat faintly lingering in the background. And his arms around Carlos were like steel bands they were that hard, his lack of sleeves meaning those muscles were really on display. The hand holding his hook to Carlos' chin was so gentle, such a stark contrast to the rest of the older boys' demeanour that it was baffling. 

“Huh. Well this has been thrilling young pup, but I'll have to hook ye later. We've business elsewhere.”

The arms dropped from around him, shoving the younger boy aside as they did so. Carlos allowed it, ducking out of their path with a sigh of relief (and some regret. Those arms...). 

Mentally coughing, Carlos had shoved the incident out of his mind and continued on to school.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~##########################~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

School was normal, he was only shoved into a locker once and managed to get a good discussion in with the teacher during science. A success, really. 

That should've been enough warning that something was due to go wrong for the young lad.

He was exiting his final class of the day, having let the other students run out first (not caring for the pushing and shoving). Jay (Jafar's son) materialised from seemingly nowhere to sling an arm around his shoulder. Honestly, he just enjoyed reminding Carlos how short he was.

“Hey, Jay, what's up?” It wasn't like, well, anybody on the Isle to approach him without an agenda in mind. Even the nice – almost friendly- ones, like Jay.

“Carlos, my man. Looking fine today.” The leer was pure habit, Carlos was 90% sure. Jay couldn't help but flirt- it was one of his main weapons, though far from his most powerful. Certainly his most used, which made it his go-to setting.

“Jay. What do you need?” Carlos didn't have time to beat around the bush, not if he wanted to get home in time to finish his chores. He certainly didn't have time to be discreetly sniffing Jay and comparing the smell of leather and spice to the scent of Hook from earlier. Nor to be mentally comparing the arm around his shoulders to the- No! No checking Jay out, even just in comparison to others. 

Jay was completely straight and didn't mean for any of the flirting to come across as anything but friendly. Unless it got him what he wanted, in which case he was fine leading boys on. And girls, for that matter. Carlos knew this, was working on sinking it into his thick hormone-addled brain.

“Welllll, maybe there's something you could do for me, but I mean, I totally could do it myself, just you know, easier to make you.”

An eye-roll was completely appropriate here, Carlos assured himself.

“So you want me to fix something. Fine. What?”

A sack thudded into his chest, forcing a grunt out of the slighter boy. It was fairly hefty, taking both hands to hold it comfortably. A quick peek inside showed a variety of toys and trinkets- from wind-up toys and pocket watches to egg timers. 

“Jay, this is not a quick fix. This will take me weeks to fix these, not to mention the parts I would need!” Panic laced his tone. He hated telling his almost-kind-of-friend no, but there was just no way.

A chuckle sounded in his ear, the bag being eased from his grip as the arm around him squeezed briefly. “No worries, no rush on these. Just want 'em in better shape before I give them to Dad. Figure if you can do a few a week, that'll be enough to keep him off my back. You know, along with the rest of what I get for him.”

Carlos shook his head, a bitter smile on his face. He knew he was being used, but it still felt good to help Jay out. He understood what it was like to have your parent upset with you- nobody deserved that. So he would help, in his spare time. Certainly not if it would eat into any of his chore time though, he wasn't getting himself screwed over just so Jay would be alright.

The two boys walked together, Carlos knowing Jay was only walking him home to ensure his bag of items wasn't stolen along the way. It had happened before. 

Once the goods were safely stashed under a plank (a purpose-built hiding spot) in the tree house, Jay had fled, saying “It's not so much that this place is creepy, I just wanna be home before that storm starts. Also, your house is creepy dude.”

Carlos had finished the last of the chores with time to spare, meaning he could spend at least an hour in his tree house before his mother got home to ruin everything.

Gazing at the sky as he climbed the ladder to his haven, Carlos pondered the coming storm, dark clouds more prominent than usual. It shouldn't affect him- he'd be back inside by the time it hit and he'd long since waterproofed his tree-house. 

Turning what was always a rather undignified clamber over the lip of the ladder onto the floor of the room into a (if he did say so himself) smooth roll, Carlos prepared to leap to his feet- ready to stick the landing to the cheers of the crowd. (What. He's allowed to pretend whatever he pleases when he's alone).

Only he wasn't as alone as he had assumed. His roll was halted (painfully) by hitting heavy boots, leaving Carlos in a not-so-graceful sprawl on the ground at... Harry Hook's feet.

(Wait. What? Hook. Harry Hook. In his tree-house? When had he fallen asleep? This was how most of his dreams started...)

“Pup, ye don't have to bow to me. Not that I mind, though.”

Carlos staggered to his feet, half wishing he'd just stayed on his ass when he realised Hook still loomed over him (how damn short was he, anyway?). 

“Harry. To what do I owe the displeasure?” His voice was steady, confidant. A win, for once.

The pirate gazed about the room, eyes bouncing from one thing to the next, never settling for long.

“Well, pup, word is you're pretty smart. Reading lotsa books and whatnot.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest. Was he about to be exploited by the pirates for his skills? Mal wouldn't be very impressed if he took to helping her enemies. But then again, if he could get them to actually pay for his services...

“What of it?”

A tight smile that was either meant to intimidate, or was nervous. Carlos figured it was the former. 

“I've got a bit of a job for ye then, if you're as good as they say.”

“Can't tell you if I can do it, until I know what it is, Hook.” Carlos tried to sound disinterested, even though curiosity was gnawing at him. What could be important enough for the pirate to wander so far from the docks?

“If ye tell anyone pup, if ye let anybody know about this, I'll hook ye. I'll make yer life a nightmare. I'll destroy any-”

“Yup, got it. Telling anyone, not worth my life. Understood. Now, what's the job?”

Carlos actually felt the tiniest bit of power just then. This big bad pirate had come to him for something he needed. Something he obviously couldn't get anywhere else. Carlos felt special.

Until Hook shoved his hook against Carlos' chest, muttering something. 

“Um, what?” Too scared to touch the hook- people had been hurt for even attempting as much in the past- Carlos simply stared at the older boy. (Because it was such a hardship, really, to gaze at that face.)

“I said, me hook. It's broke. Fix it.”

The petulant tone was only slightly hidden by the underlying threat. He was almost adorable, looking quite lost once he was no longer holding his hook. Because Carlos was.

Holding Harry's hook.

What on earth was going on with this day?

He examined the hook carefully, not daring to consider the consequences of dropping it. 

“What exactly is the- oh.”

He'd found the issue. The hook itself was fine, if covered in some questionable substances. The handle (hidden by the hand shield) however, that was splintered. Judging by the rather large gape, it'd been that way for a while. 

Carlos' eyes cut over to Hooks now empty hand, clutching at thin air. A deep red mark ran the length of his palm. Yes, it'd been this way for days if not weeks he would guess.

“So, the handle is broken. You want me to fix it? I normally deal with electronics, not um, weapons.”

Hook stared at him, his intensity causing shivers to rake Carlos' entire body. He really didn't want to screw this up.

“I heard ye have a gentle touch. And, well, I trust ye more than any of the others to do this. Just do what ye do, and I'll be on me way.”

Carlos shook his head. “It doesn't work that way. I need payment and-”

Wrong words. Harry spun towards him, leaning right into his personal space. 

“I don't care! I'll get ye whatever ye want after it's fixed, just fix it!” The cold steel underneath the manic crazy was something Carlos was not familiar with – his mother was just plain crazy. This was something different. Dangerous, unhinged, desperate crazy. 

“Okay, okay. But I can't do it now- Mum'll be home soon and I've got to-”

A hand clamped down firmly on his shoulder, guiding him to his desk and forcing him into the chair. It wasn't a gentle hand. 

“Fix. It.”

“You don't care. Noted. Okay. Um. Ideally we'd replace the handle, but seeing as I doubt you'll wait the weeks it'll take to find something that'll do the job, I guess we just fix up what's here. Okay.”

Rubbing his hands together, Carlos pushed everything else from his mind. Nothing else mattered until he finished the job in front of him- Harry wasn't going to let it matter, anyway. 

He spoke out loud, detailing exactly what he was doing with his every movement. Hook was obviously on edge without his hook, he didn't want anything he did to be misconstrued as sabotage. His life was worth more than that. 

It wasn't much fun trying to work with Hook crowding him- sometimes pacing, sometimes just staring, and sometimes leaning over his back, personal space be damned. But Carlos was used to things that weren't much fun. He'd be more worried if he was having fun, to be honest. 

Carlos filled the hole in with his own creation- something between a resin, plastic and rubber. He didn't actually know what it was, but he knew it would cure strong- in one piece but also with a bit of elasticity to it. It was kinda the best thing he'd ever created to be honest. 

Unfortunately it took a few hours to cure. Well, a few hours in a pinch. A few days was best. But even explaining that to Hook had no sway over the boy. 

“So, uh, that's going to be a few hours. I need to go cook dinner for Mum, so-”

“Not so fast, pup. You're staying right here until it's done. Call it an insurance policy.”

Harry's voice was soft, not a hint of malice to it. Not holding his hook must have left him feeling vulnerable, Carlos mused. That didn't mean he was ready to test the older boy. He had no doubt who would come off victor between the two of them; and it wasn't him.

So that meant they were stuck in the tree house, waiting for a few hours until Carlos' mystery substance hardened. Again, Carlos had to wonder if he was in one of his dreams. This was just far too surreal. Two encounters with the older boy, in one day? After less than a dozen in his entire lifetime up to that point?

Definitely somebody upstairs pulling strings, playing games. 

“Soooo... What happened to split the handle like that?”

“None of yer business, runt.”

Awkward silence. Carlos had no idea what to say and Harry was just staring at his hook like he could make it cure faster with his gaze.

“Um. How's Uma?” That earned him a glance. 

“Why? Looking for dirt to run to Mal with?”

“No! I was just trying to make small talk. And I know you're like, obsessed with Uma, so I thought you'd like to talk about her, that's all.”

“Well I don't. Why do ye want to talk anyway?”

Carlos huffed, sinking further into his seat.

“It's going to be a long wait. It'll be even longer if we're not even talking. I was hoping we could pass the time together, you know. Distract each other.” He certainly needed distracting. There was no way his mother wasn't home now, expecting him to cook her dinner. She was not going to be happy that he wasn't.

“Right. Make the time pass. Well then. What do you want for payment?”

Carlos blinked in shock. “Oh, uh. I kinda assumed you weren't going to pay me.”

Harry giggled, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. How he made such an undignified move graceful, Carlos would never know.

“I get that. But I actually will pay ye pup- I want ye to do a good job. So I'll steal ya whatever it is ye want. Or beat up whoever ye want.”

Carlos thought fast. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. 

“Can I reserve a favour? There's nothing I need right now. But there's always people that need dealing with.”

Harry shrugged. “No skin off my nose. But it's only one favour- I ain't anyone's bitch.”

“Apart from Uma's, I guess.”

“Not even hers. What's your obsession with her?”

“Mine? You're the one obsessed. We've all seen how you act around her.”

Harry smirked. “I just act like a poorly reigned in first mate should act. No deep obsession there.”

Carlos gaped. “So you're not like, head over heels for her?”

Harry laughed then, a proper belly laugh. “For Uma? Hades, no. She'd need some different equipment to start with. And she's way too bossy for me. I'd rather be in charge in the bedroom, I ain't bending over for no-one, ya know.”

Carlos' brain fizzled. Harry Hook was gay. 

Harry was gay. Sitting in his tree-house. Had basically kidnapped him. They were stuck together for hours. And he liked to be in charge.

Hades, this was going to fuel his imagination for years to come.

“So, uh-”

Whatever he had planned on saying was drowned out by a sudden downpour of rain, the sky just opening up and letting loose. Startled, Carlos may have let out a yelp before covering his mouth with a hand, embarrassed. Hopefully Harry hadn't heard that over the-

“Nothing to be scared of here but me, pup.” The grin did little to soothe, not that it was intended to.

Carlos however, had let go of most of his fear of Harry around the time the older boy handed him his hook. Trust like that had a temporary truce built in, surely.

Instead, the younger boy snorted. “Yeah, say that once you've met my Ma.”

Hook's head tilted. “She's a fashion designer, right? Likes to wear animals? How bad could she be. Just give her a stray cat every now and then. Easy.”

Carlos snarled. Not much would get his back up- he was a pretty level headed kind of guy. But having his biggest threat dismissed so casually... That got him.

“You think it's so damn easy to live with her, huh? You would! You'd have a wonderful life with her! Those cheekbones, those arms- your height! She'd love you! You don't look like a runt, you aren't covered in spots like a bloody Dalmatian. She wouldn't hate you!”

Chest heaving, Carlos realised he'd stood at some point, fists clenched on the table in front of him as he stared at Harry. Whoops. 

“Wha'? Seriously? Damn. Yer Ma hates you huh?”

Carlos wasn't sure whether to be glad or upset that that was the part Harry had latched on to.

“Half the island calls me puppy because they've heard her call me that. Nobody realises that sometimes she actually believes that. She tries to hunt me down and wants my freckles for a coat. She's not sane! Living with her is a dangerous sport- one wrong move, and I'm skinned alive. Literally!”

Harry sat up straighter. “That's why everyone calls ye pup? Shit. I thought it was cause o' those puppy dog eyes ye bat around.”

“Puppy dog eyes? I do not have puppy dog eyes!”

Harry grinned. “Ye totally do. All wide an' innocent, begging for mercy. Look like a gorgeous puppy. But I can see why ye'd hate the name. If ye don't wanna be a pup... Ye can be me kitten. Kit. I like it.”

“I don't wanna be a kitten either!”

Harry shrugged. “Your choice, pup or kit.”

Carlos grumbled under his breath. What on earth was going on here? A yawn escaped without his permission, causing a light blush to dust his cheeks. That had been rather loud, and embarrassing.

“Tired Kit? Don't let me keep ya up. Look, here's a lap you can curl up and snooze in....”

A diabolical grin adorned Hook's face. He was taking great pleasure in watching the De Vil boy squirm.

“Knock it off, Hook. I'm not tired.”

He then promptly yawned. Because why wouldn't he. 

Hook dissolved into giggles, standing up with that effortless grace Carlos couldn't fathom the older boy possessing.

“Sure ye aren't lad. Just come sit down here, no, no struggling. Sit! Good boy.”

Harry had gripped him by the shoulder, pulling him out of his seat and the few steps over to the wall where he sat down and forced the younger boy to sit next to him. His arm was draped over Carlos by that point and showed no signs of letting go. 

Carlos sat next to Harry, wondering what on earth was going on. But then the warmth against his side, added to the somewhat hypnotic sound of rain pouring down outside, and the hand carding through his hair (scratching slightly, making his bones turn to mush), caused his eyes to droop; the tiredness overtaking his better sense.

~~~~~##############~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was warm. That was the first thing he noticed. He wasn't comfortable- his neck felt stiff, his lower back was fairly sore, and all the normal aches and pains were there- yet somehow, Carlos felt good. He was comfy, in a weird way. The sound of the storm raging came to him, and that was enough to pop his eyes open.

He'd fallen asleep. He'd fallen asleep against Hook- what in the heck was with this day?

Shifting slightly, he glanced at the pirates face. His eyes were closed, his face almost peaceful. Carlos delicately shifted from his side, lifting the arm from around his shoulders. Slipping away, the young boy stood and stretched. 

Crossing to the desk, he poked gingerly at the hook. Almost cured, but not quite. Another glance at the sleeping pirate. He didn't need to be here, Harry would wake up and the hook would be ready and waiting for him.

Nodding in resolve, Carlos took a deep breath. By his reckoning, he'd missed dinner. It was just going dark- enough time to get whatever punishment he was due out of the way before bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~####################~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That had been a mistake. Carlos scrubbed harder at the car, futile as it was. He should've stayed in the tree-house, psychotic pirate or no.

Cruella had been- to put it politely- upset. That never boded well for her son. So here Carlos was, washing her car in the middle of a storm, as apparently it had gotten muddy on her way home. Not that the mud was there, having washed away by the rain. But that wasn't the point. Cruella had named his punishment for missing dinner, and 'everything else'. 

He still wasn't sure what that was. He thought perhaps she just meant when he reminded her of a Dalmatian, with his small stature and dots all over. You know, the normal offences he committed by existing. But there was always the chance he had screwed something else up, which would be very dangerous if he didn't know what. Walking in blind to a situation with his mother was never, ever an option.

Lightening flashed, followed swiftly by a booming roll of thunder. 

Carlos scrubbed faster.


	2. Chapter 2

Night was falling on the Isle, not that it made much of a difference. The thunderstorm that had rolled in earlier that afternoon had already been blocking the majority of the sunshine anyway, and the Isle wasn't generally a sunny place to begin with. Most of the residents had developed decent night vision, just another survival mechanism.

Carlos De Vil shivered, teeth chattering. He was nearly finished cleaning his mothers car, only the rear of it to go. Not that it mattered if he did or not, he mused bitterly. The only person who would ever know if he didn't was himself. And perhaps his mother, with her uncanny ability to sniff out any deceit on him like cocaine for a drug dog.

The idea of Cruella catching Carlos in a falsehood sent shivers down his spine that weren't related to his current situation at all. So he steeled his resolve, grinding his teeth to stop their annoying chattering as he proceeded to wring out the rag before dunking it in the bucket again. _Nearly done_ , he chanted to himself. _Nearly done_.

He would finish the car as quickly as possible, then move on to other chores his mother had almost certainly left for him. He still wasn't certain where he currently stood with his mother, which was a feeling he hated more than anything else. The uncertainty of it was horrid, a burning mass of anxiety in his gut. Would this appease her? Was she lying in wait for him, setting up traps (both figurative and literal) to catch him the moment he stepped inside? Or had she forgotten about him, gone to bed, and was just continuing on about her life while he was out here panicking over nothing?

“Kit what the fuck are ye doing out here?”

Startled by the loud voice directly behind him, Carlos flinched as he ran the rag across the cars boot- leading to his entire body following that arm, plastering him to the car in not only a very vulnerable position, but also getting any area of his body that may have been dry completely soaked.

High pitched giggling cut through the rain, and when Carlos gathered himself to turn around, he wasn't surprised to see Harry Hook looming above him. His pirate hat was working as a makeshift umbrella, shielding his face from the sleeting rain (and protecting his eyeliner from running, though Carlos suspected that the pirate wouldn't be worried if it did).

He took a moment to assess the other teen, not entirely certain where he stood with him at the moment. He had kind of slunk out of the room after their... Rest. (He hesitated to even _think_ that he had taken a nap with Harry Hook. The very idea was beyond all measure.) But on the other hand, he'd fixed the boys hook and hadn't done anything to him while his guard was down, so he couldn't be too upset with him? Right?

Harry's eyes were crinkled, either in concern or against the rain it was hard to tell. Carlos' gaze followed as a few drops ran down the older teens cheek and plunged over his jutting jawbone. He gulped. That was a dangerous sight. Hook was looming over him, but was also almost hunched in on himself. Whether from the rain, or just to compensate for the (rather ridiculous) height difference was unclear.

Then Carlos noticed the hook clutched to his side and before his thoughts could catch up to his mouth, he blurted out-

“Harry! What are you doing with that out here?!”

Shooting across the remaining personal space between them, Carlos grabbed the offending hook (but didn't try to actually take it, he wasn't suicidal) and Harry's hand, shoving both under his shirt before hunching forwards over it as though to prevent as much rain from touching it as he could.

And then the cold of the hook on his chest gave him chills, closely followed by the warmth.

Of Harry's hand. Up his shirt. 

Oh for the love of- 

Carlos gulped, before slowly lifting his gaze back to the pirate, wondering if he was about to take a long walk off a short plank for his actions.

The pirate kind of looked like a stunned fish. He hadn't so much as twitched at Carlos' actions, his arm docilely following where it was guided (and remaining there). Once their eyes connected though, his lips slowly stretched into his signature smirk. 

“Ye don't beat around the bush, huh Kit? If ye wanted me hand up your shirt, all ye had to do was ask!”

The sing-song tone to his voice was rather grating, causing Carlos' next sentence to come out fairly gruff (quite an accomplishment for him, to be honest.).

“Oh shut up, Harry. You can't let the rain touch your hook for at least another day, or it'll just break straight away!”

Blue eyes hardened, and his (extremely lick-able) jaw clenched at that.

“And ye might've stuck around to tell me that, Pup, but no, ye left me to what- clean a car? In the middle of a bloody storm?”

The way he said 'Pup' left no room for misunderstanding- he meant it as an insult, wanted it to hurt.

So he felt that Carlos had left him, and was upset about it? Carlos squared his shoulders, feeling prickled. He was cold, he was hungry, he was tired (even after the nap that totally wasn't a nap). Now was not the time to push him.

“You know what? Yes! Yes I left you in the nice, dry tree-house, while I went and dealt with my mother. And yes, I'm cleaning her car, in the middle of a freaking storm. Do you know why?”

He left no time for the other teen to answer, worried if Harry got one word in Carlos would loose all his backbone. He straightened as he spoke, staring up at the taller teen determinedly.

“Because you wouldn't let me go to make dinner! So now she's pissed, and I'm cleaning her freaking car, and I'm freaking cold, and hungry, and just so freaking over today, and if you undo all my hard work and the entire reason why I missed making her dinner, then I will hook you myself!”

Harry blinked, shock flittering across his face as Carlos finished his rant. The younger boy took a deep breath, shrinking in on himself again now he had gotten it all out.

Oh well, he was fairly young to die, but it wasn't that uncommon on the Isle. He'd had a... life. He was ready to die. And Hook was certainly going to kill him, after that.

Not to mention the hand _still up his shirt!!!_

Carlos could imagine a million things Harry would do to him right then and there, most involving the hook in question, though not all. The one thing he never considered though, was the older teen simply pulling his hand back to himself (before shoving it under his jacket, out of the rain), turning around and walking away.

Not a word, not a glance, nothing. No threat, no injury, no idea what had just happened.

Had he just stood up to _Harry Hook_ and lived to talk about it? What on earth....?

Jumping as another roll of thunder let loose, Carlos got back to work. Pirate situation or no, he wanted out of this storm as soon as physically possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~#############~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Carlos woke feeling miserable. He'd been locked out of the house while he cleaned the car, meaning he'd slept in the tree-house. Which was (thankfully) water proofed, but the wind cut through multiple little holes and cracks, even after he pulled up the ladder and sealed the opening with a piece of metal that used to advertise something (he didn't know what, it was well covered in graffiti by the time he'd filched it). 

Not to mention he had been soaked to the bone, with only a spare jacket to change into. He did so, hanging his better one up to dry and wrapping his only blanket around himself like a burrito. He'd spent many nights sleeping here, one more probably wouldn't kill him.

Of course, that had all led to him waking up feeling out of sorts, stiff and not exactly a happy camper. 

He stretched, pulling the blanket tight around his shoulders as he sat at his desk. He was still cold (when wasn't he?) and could hear the rain continuing on outside, though it didn't sound quite as heavy.

It was Saturday, so he didn't need to worry about school. Having been locked out normally meant he wouldn't be welcome home for a few days (to then be punished for the chores he hadn't done, of course). Carlos was hungry, but not enough to go back out into the rain. The very idea had him clutching the blanket that much tighter around himself. 

Gazing about the small space, he considered how to spend his unexpected free time. He didn't have any new books, though he wasn't against rereading any of what he did have. There was also the bag of loot Jay wanted him to repair that needed looking at. He shook his head, knowing better than to try working with small parts when his hands were shaking so badly. 

He was eyeballing his red and black jacket he'd hung to dry the night before, wondering if it was dry yet. Another layer against the howling wind sounded pretty appealing.

He about jumped out of his skin when the metal sign thumped once, before flying across the floor. A hand clad in a black fingerless glove grabbed the side of the opening, heaving a body into the room.

“Harry!”

Carlos stayed seated, not getting up to help the pirate. He obviously didn't need it, as he'd gotten up without the ladder. And he was a bit busy watching those muscled arms pull the pirate in, to be honest.

Hook popped up smoothly, no awkward stumble for him. Even though he was all wet leather and honestly too tall for the small space, his movements were fluid and graceful. Carlos was green with envy.

“'Ello Kit. Trying to keep out the big bad pirate, aye?”

He grinned down at the younger boy whilst saying that, causing Carlos to believe it was mostly teasing. Mostly.

“More worried about the wind, but hey. Didn't work anyway, did it?”

Hook moved across the room (after placing the cover back over the opening, though Carlos' OCD told him it wasn't quite _right_ ), sharp gaze taking in the hanging jacket before settling on the boy in from of him. “Ye slept here?”

Carlos shrugged. “Yeah. What do you need, Harry?”

The taller boy removed his hook from under his jacket, handing it to Carlos. Who took it wearily, still stumped by the fact that he was allowed to touch it.

“Wanted ye to check it, make sure it's okay.”

Remembering what had happened the previous night set fire to his cheeks, so Carlos ducked his head as he examined the job he'd done. It didn't look too bad, but he could see hairline cracks that told him the setting wasn't as firm as it could be. He gave it a few good knocks before it lost all integrity. 

“It could be okay. But I don't think it'll last that long. You can either take it, wait for it to break again, and then we can redo it. Or you can leave it here today, and I'll redo it now. I've got the whole day anyway.”

Harry frowned, head tilting. “Ye said ye didn't have any time last night, and now ye've got the whole day?”

Carlos shrugged, pulling the blanket tighter and turning to look at the wall beside him. “Things change. Those are your options. I don't always have this much time free, but it's up to you if you want to risk it.”

Harry sighed, dropping down to the floor. “Fix it. I can't have it breaking on me again, nearly lost the bloody fight when it did last time.”

~~~~~~~~~###########~~~~~~~~~~~

Carlos held the book in front of himself, trying his hardest to pay attention. Unfortunately, his gaze kept drifting over to the other boy, who wasn't exactly patient. 

Harry Hook was attempting to sit quietly. Which apparently included drumming his fingers on the ground next to his thigh, humming to himself and sighing every other minute. It was extremely distracting, and it'd only been half an hour since Carlos had finished fixing the hook for the second time.

“Okay, Harry, you know you don't have to stay here right? I can watch the hook, and you can just come back later-”

“Not happening, Kit. Not letting it out o' me sight.”

“Ugh. Fine. But could you stop being so distracting?”

Hook smirked. “Not my fault ye can't keep your eyes off me, it's just natural.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever. But I'm tired, so I'm going to sleep. You can have the desk.”

He stood, crossing to where Harry sat, waiting for the other boy to move. 

“I'm not moving. Besides, no way am I gunna fit over there.”

Carlos glanced back, and had to agree. It was comfortable for him, but the other boys larger frame would have to contort to fit into his space.

The shorter boy flopped down, beyond caring. “Whatever. But this is where I sleep, so budge over or be my pillow.” He fully expected the pirate to shuffle over, and once again was surprised when he did the opposite. Lifting his arm in welcome, Harry waited for the younger boy to settle against his side. 

Carlos did so, figuring the extra body warmth would be worth whatever trick this turned out to be. And he wasn't wrong. The older boy obviously had good quality leather, as he absolutely radiated heat. So with an absolute disregard for any self-respect, Carlos snuggled in as close as he could, basically curled around the pirate. His hands left the cocoon of his blanket, pressing against Harry's side under the red leather. 

“Jesus, Kit, ye're bloody freezing!”

Instead of pushing the icicle pretending to be a boy away, Hook pulled him in closer to help warm him. His arm wrapped around the slender back, dropping to play with the tail hanging from his key chain.

“Yeah, no shit.”

Carlos pressed his face next to his hands. The warmth was exquisite. The rain was lulling him to sleep again, and it was just like a repeat of the previous afternoon. He could feel himself drifting off, when the pirate decided to speak up again.

“Did ye not want to go home, or couldn't ye?”

“Locked out.”

The pirate scoffed. “Pretty sure you can pick a lock, Kitten.”

“Not a kitten. And I could, just didn't want to.”

The hand playing with his tail finally stilled, before coming to rest on his hip.   
“Ye are a kitten, about bloody purring on me lap right now.”

“Not on your lap.” Said the boy who was all but in Harry's lap. It's the details that count. 

A hand on his shoulder shoved him sprawling across the older boys lap.

“See? Totally in me lap.”

Carlos huffed a laugh, too tired to argue. He settled into his new position, actually quite comfortable.

And if he nuzzled his head into Harry's thigh, that wasn't his fault. He just had an itchy cheek.

~~~~~~~~~###############~~~~~~~~~~

When Carlos woke, it was at least three hours later, and he was the warmest he could ever remember being. Everything smelt good- like salt and leather, and he could feel something petting his head, combing through his curls.

It felt like heaven. He really didn't want to wake any further, knowing reality would somehow ruin it. His life didn't have many moments like this, or even any. This feeling was pure bliss, all comfort and safety and just _good_.

So of course, his brain had to go and ruin it for him, bringing in memories and logic until he knew what was happening. Based off of his last waking moment, he must be curled up on Harry Hook's lap, and the older boy was petting him. Like a dog. And it felt _amazing_. He didn't know whether to be offended, or to just bask in it. 

He chose the later. After all, he felt good, and how often did he get the opportunity to feel this way?

“I know yer awake, Kitten.”

The hand carding through his hair didn't cease it's movements, so Carlos saw no need to move himself. He merely hummed, and may have nuzzled into the nice firm thigh he was leaning against. 

A soft chuckle drifted down to him, before his bed began to move, disrupting him. Pouting, the boy slowly pushed his upper body up, trying to gauge what the pirate was doing. 

Harry had at some point removed his hat, and his bandanna with it, leaving his hair in a disarray that suited him way too much. He was stretching his legs out, and Carlos felt a slight pang of guilt. Had the pirate kept still the entire time he'd been asleep, so as not to disturb him? Surely not.

Harry pushed Carlos off of his lap and onto the cold ground next to him. Without giving the younger boy a chance to react, he lowered himself to lie on the floor completely. He was so tall his boots pressed against the opposite wall, Carlos couldn't help but notice. One arm went behind his head- a makeshift pillow- as the other pulled the younger boy back to his side. 

“Tha's better, was startin' to cramp.”

Carlos blinked at the chest he found his head once again leaning on. What on earth?

“Uh, Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Um. What. I mean. Uh. Never mind.”

He decided it wasn't worth asking. Maybe this was one of those social things he'd missed out on, being raised by a not entirely sane woman and all. Maybe asking would upset the pirate, and a happy Harry Hook was much preferable to an upset one.

Harry lifted his head enough to gaze down at him, and Carlos noticed that today his eyeliner was minimal, a mere hint of it around his eyes. 

“I figure ye got the right idea- might as well sleep seein' we're stuck here.”

Carlos nodded, a bit confused but not willing to ruin it. He'd just had one of the best sleeps of his life, he wasn't complaining. 

Though, the longer he lay there, the more he noticed the cold seeping through the floor beneath his side, as his back was being chilled by the open room. He endeavoured to ignore it, he'd dealt with much worse, and the heat he was getting from Harry was well worth being a bit chilled on the rest of his body.

As much as he tried to prevent it, a shiver rippled up his body. Hook grunted, speaking without lifting his head this time. “Still cold?”

“It's fine, I'll live.” First rule of the Isle- never admit to weakness. 

Hook grunted again, obviously halfway to sleep. The bigger boy lifted Carlos (with just one arm) until he was resting completely on top of him, head tucked under Harry's chin. Then the pirate wrapped his jacket around the younger boy, completely encasing him in the warmth he was quickly growing to associate with the pirate.

It was such a vulnerable position, it made him feel unsettled. Not enough to move, though. He also doubted the arm wrapped around his back would let him go- Harry seemed to enjoy manhandling him. So long as he wasn't getting hurt, Carlos figured he could live with that.

Time passed, as Carlos drifted in and out of sleep. The atmosphere was so peaceful, between the rain outside and Harry's heartbeat, strong and steady under his ear. No chores to do, nobody wanted to hurt him, nobody even wanted anything from him. 

Well, Harry wanted his hook fixed, but that was already done, and Jay wanted that bag of scraps worked on, but Carlos knew he wouldn't see the older boy while it was raining. Normally, that would mean Carlos was stuck inside, and Jay wouldn't know any different.

It was a rare day of freedom, and he found he really didn't mind sharing it with the pirate. It just felt so good.

Eventually, a roll of thunder shook the tree-house and the pirate under him startled awake. The arm around Carlos clenched, before relaxing. 

“Wha' time 's it?”

Carlos shrugged, having no idea. He'd had a watch, once. He was fairly certain Jay had stolen it. Normally he just told the time by the position of the sun, though on rainy and overcast days there was a lot more guesswork involved.

Grumbling, Harry stretched out his limbs from his position under the younger boy. Then he snaked a hand into a pocket, fishing out a silver pocket watch. “Dinner time.”

Carlos rolled off of the pirate, bouncing to his feet. Hook slowly rose, seeming to crack every bone he had in doing so. “Next time, we sleep in my bed. Yer floor sucks to sleep on.”

Carlos froze where he was picking up his blanket. Next time? 

Hook continued, not seeming to have noticed what he had said. 

“I'm hungry. Is me hook done?”

Gathering himself, Carlos crossed to the desk and inspected the hook. It was pretty much set, definitely firm to the touch. His only worry was if it was set all the way through, but it should be enough for now.

He told Harry as much, handing it over for the older boys inspection. 

“It looks good. Thanks, Kitten.”

The thanks threw Carlos, it wasn't something he was used to hearing. It actually made him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

While he explored this new feeling, Harry uncovered the opening and paused to tuck his hook into his belt, under his coat. “Hook ye later, Kit.”

With that, the crazy pirate grabbed the edge with one hand and jumped down (completely disregarding the rope ladder that lay next to it). Carlos absent-mindedly covered the opening back up, mind still reeling.

Gazing about the space, he noted that it seemed much larger without the other boy there. And colder. And empty, lonely even.

Lifting up the plank (that they'd been lying on), he removed Jay's bag of goodies. Might as well work on some of these before his fingers begun to shake again. 

~~~~~~~~~~################~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days progressed as usual for the De Vil boy, stealing breakfast and getting shoved into his locker. He had extra chores of course, after his mother let him into the house again on Monday after school. 

He had to give her a full makeover, and the less he thought about that, the better. There were some things a boy should never see, and he'd crossed that threshold years ago. He grew up believing every child acted as a personal beautician for their mother. 

Everything had been normal- other kids avoiding him unless they wanted something (his lunch, a free repair). Every time he entered his tree-house, it felt too big and too lonely. Every time he lay down on his bed in his mother's closet, sea blue eyes lined with dark smudges filled his head. 

He hadn't seen Hook since that weekend, which was nothing abnormal at all, though it left him with a hollow feeling in his gut. If he didn't know better, he'd say he missed the older boy.

The way he constantly popped up into his brain, that was not infatuation, and definitely not a crush.

That was just silly. He was scared of the pirate with the horrible reputation, obviously.

Totally.  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~#####################~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I planned for this to be completely different, but Harry refused to be ignored. I hadn't planned on continuing this, and then some lovely comments gave me such a boost, so I tried to write some more to Carlos' story. Hope this is what you guys were looking for.


	3. Chapter 3

“Bloody buggering... Ugh! Just do what I tell you!”

Young Carlos de Vil glared at the desk in front of him, sucking on his scorched finger.

The desk was scattered with tiny bits and bobs, mechanisms for all sorts of trinkets that Jay had given the boy for fixing. Carlos had been making a start on that- disassembling a few watches to see what parts could be salvaged and using them to restore at least a few of the time pieces.

Unfortunately, for some reason his mind just refused to focus on the task at hand, and he'd yet again burnt himself on the soldering iron.

He had no idea why he was struggling to concentrate, but for some reason sitting there in his tree-house made him think of rain, and warmth and leather. That wasn't a new issue either- all week he'd found his attention wandering whenever he sought salvation in the tree-house, which was normally the place he felt safest, most comfortable.

It was frustrating- he could normally count on his brain to stay on task, even if his hands shook from hunger, the cold or pain- his brain would always engage. It was dependable. (Unless he'd taken a head-knock, but he hadn't so that didn't count). So why couldn't he focus?

Giving up on the task at hand, the young teen dropped his tools with disgust. What good was he if he couldn't even fix a few watches? Was he loosing his touch? Would he have to actually depend on his mother for survival?

That thought sent a shiver straight down his spine. That was most definitely not an option. Survival? He'd last a month, tops, on his mothers good graces. Dead meat, for sure.

Maybe he'd just been cooped up for too long. The storm had lingered for a few days, and after the whole washing-the-car-in-the-rain debacle, Carlos had been quite determined not to get caught in it again. He didn't want to run any more of a risk of getting sick. Which meant if he didn't strictly need to be outside, he'd been hiding inside.

So perhaps some fresh air, well, as fresh as it got on the Isle, would help clear his head from these strange thoughts. He stowed away all the items- under the plank in the floor- and dropped down his rope ladder. Quickly scanning the area to be certain he hadn't left anything of value out in sight (why run the risk even if his tree-house wasn't exactly a popular spot?), he then quickly exited via the ladder, dropping to the ground with grace.

Stowing the ladder behind some bushes, he then set off for a stroll. The rain had been backing off over the last few days, though the ground was still a treacherous maze of puddles and potholes. Luckily, the de Vil boy knew his way well and didn't have to think about dodging the hazards, his body just did so naturally.

He meandered his way towards the market area, not really certain where he wanted to go, but smart enough not to put himself in unnecessary danger. It was a strange time of day- too late for the day crowd, too early for the night dwellers. Half of the shops and stalls were closing, the rest just opening. Hades' Souvlaki had a line out the door, which didn't look as though it was moving at all. He wondered idly if the girl that worked there had walked out mid-shift. Again.

He strolled through the few people lingering around, laughing softly at those who tried to mug him. Like he had anything of value on him. Idiots. The most valuable possession he carried was his tail- which nobody was dumb enough to touch, as they all knew it was Cruellas', and were far too scared of her to touch. 

So maybe having a psychotic mother had a perk after all. Only one, but hey. 

See the Curl Up and Dye, he pondered visiting with young Dizzy for a while. The little girl was sweet- far too sweet for a place like this- but she'd been sheltered her whole life, getting the Cinderella treatment from her grandmother, and was just too excited to meet new people. 

He shook his head and continued beyond the door. He wanted to clear his head, not socialise. Feeling hunger pains, he started to think about food. Perhaps he'd grab something for dinner while he was out, as Cruella certainly hadn't shared the food he'd made for her. 

Looking about himself with a new purpose, Carlos wondered what he could lift without being caught. Hades' was out- he wasn't dumb enough to steal from one of the big names. Nobody was that dumb, really. And those that were didn't live to talk about it. His gaze landed on a bread stall, almost sold out. Two young kids were loitering beside it, eyeing the loaves of bread as the man stared at them, obviously not ready to part with his products.

The guy wasn't so old as to make Carlos feel bad for stealing from him (not that he would, of course), and seemed to be in decent enough shape. He might make for a bit of fun actually.

Feeling charitable (and energetic enough for a run), Carlos decided to help out. Strolling across the street so he stood behind the man, he nodded his head at the kids before very intentionally grabbing a loaf from around the guys back. He jumped backwards to stay out of range, watching as the man twirled to face him, shouting in indignation. 

The kids darted in and grabbed a loaf each, before scampering away. He was glad they were smart enough to act quickly, while the guys attention wasn't on them. Maybe they'd have a chance on this forsaken Isle after all. 

“You'd better plan on paying for that, you little sod.”

Grinning, Carlos danced a few more steps backwards. 

“Or, not.”

Twirling about, he sprinted away. Darting between the few people standing around, he laughed a little at the slight rush he got. From the stealing, of course, not from helping the kids. Of course not.

“Got ya!”

A hand wrapped around his arm, yanking him to a halt. He spun around, seeing the man he'd stolen from. Who was obviously faster, and a lot more upset about the theft, than Carlos had anticipated he would be.

Damn it.

The guy started to drag him back towards the scene of the crime, while Carlos gave a token struggle. He knew he had to wait for the right moment, but to go along docilely would raise suspicion.

The man berated him the entire way, all fifty metres or so, going on about rotten children and lack of respect. As they arrived at the now completely empty stand (honestly, why chase the guy with one loaf, if the other ten get stolen while you're gone?) Carlos sensed his opportunity.

The guy reached with his free hand behind the stall, his attention split from the boy he was holding captive. So Carlos kicked him behind the knee, wrenching his arm out of the guys grip.

This time when he ran, he did so seriously. Knowing the guy would chase changed the stakes, seriously. The young teen ducked and dodged his way to the closest alley, where he vaulted onto the dumpster then used his momentum to jump off of the wall up to the lip of the building, quickly pulling himself up and over. He'd learnt the hard way not to leave his feet dangling for long. 

Once up, he stole a quick look back. The guy was scrambling onto the dumpster, red faced and swearing like a sailor, obviously too pissed now to give up in the face of defeat. Anger would give him power, but Carlos was in his element now and felt no fear.

Running the length of the roof, he launched his body across the gap to the next, repeating the action until the flat roofs became slanted ones- in which case he slid, vaulted and over-all had an absolute blast. It was basically a game of the-floor-is-lava, just played to the extreme. He threw in flips and trick jumps, just for fun. Acrobatic stunts were always a favourite of his. 

He laughed as he ran through groups of homeless, living where rooftops joined and almost created a shelter. He laughed as he interrupted others traversing the same pathways, knowing he was faster, better balanced and more in his element than any of them.

Eventually the young teen grew wary and slowed to a trot, knowing better than to stop straight away. That always hurt his legs more the next day. Finding a place to sit for a while, he dropped down. It wasn't on a roof- far too exposed up there to be stationary- but under a fire escape attached to a shop that was closed for the day.

Munching on his dinner, he found that he was now ravenous and extra glad he'd stolen the food.

About three bites in he felt a hand grip his shoe. Before he could so much as twitch in reaction, he was falling from his perch. Carlos' back met the ground- hard- as the food was ripped from his hand. A boot came to rest on his chest, as his head rang like a bell.

Great, he must've hit it on the way down. 

He gazed up at the form above him, waiting for it to come into focus.

Red leather made his blood pump faster, and yet once he saw the yellow leather, long hair and beanie, a sense of disappointment flooded him. Jay. Of course.

But why was he disappointed? Who had he thought (hoped) it was?

Refusing to think any further on that topic, he decided to focus on his current predicament.

“Uh, Jay?”

The older boy was munching on the bread, seemingly quite happy where he stood.

“Jay! Let me up, man.”

The older teen snickered, slowly removing his foot before holding a hand out to Carlos. Rolling his eyes, said boy sat up slowly and ignored the offered hand. Instead, he rubbed the back of his head. No blood, thankfully, just a slight bump. Nothing to fret over. 

He stood, glaring at the older boy. 

“What was that for?”

Jay smirked at him, half charm and half douche. “I've told you before, you need to be aware of your surroundings. Or I'm just going to take your stuff.”

“Yeah? Well, I was working on _your_ stuff, when I got too hungry to keep working. So I guess now I'll just go hungry, and never finish your stuff!”

Carlos was pretty pissed. He'd worked hard for that loaf, after all, and it would've given him at least three meals. Jay had finished almost half of it already.

Rolling his eyes, the son of Jafar shoved another bite into his mouth. He chewed quickly, and swallowed audibly before answering. 

“Drama queen. Just go steal another.”

Carlos glared up at him. 

“Not everybody is as good at stealing as you are, Jay! Some of us actually have to work at it.”

“See? I'm doing you a favor. You need the practice.”

The older boy strolled away, without so much as a farewell, loaf in hand.

Carlos sighed, stepping back to lean against the wall. He knew better than to expect anything else, though he would've liked his dinner back. Taking a moment to assess himself, he cataloged his aches and pains.

Throbbing head, aching back, tight chest, shaky legs and tingly fingers. Yup, he'd be feeling this one tomorrow.

And no food to show for it, though he'd managed to eat enough to take the edge off his hunger before it was taken from him.

The question now though, was should he head home or find more food? Finding food would be harder now, the night was definitely upon them, and stall owners were far more wary in night mode. If he waited until morning, however, he ran the risk of being too sore to run. And if he couldn't run, he didn't stand a chance at stealing.

Pondering the issue, he slowly trudged along the alley. He didn't even really know where he was- jumping across the rooftops came with the unfortunate habit of landing him in unfamiliar places.

Seeing the graffiti around, Carlos realised he must be close to the wharfs ( _we ride with the tide_ meant he was in pirate territory). Suddenly feeling a lot less confidant, he gazed about the darkened area, expecting the shadows to jump out at him. 

The rooftops got him here, they could get him home. Backtracking to the alley he had been in, Carlos had every intention of climbing that fire escape and getting the hell out of dodge. After a quick stop to catch his breath.

Leaning against the wall, he gripped his chest with one hand and clutched his faux tail with the other. Just a moment, to catch his breath and settle his head, then he was outta here.

A moment (or ten) later, he slid down the wall. Just for a little while, until he could clear his head and maybe breathe without the fire in his chest.

Even though he knew better, even though his every instinct told him not to, Carlos was sitting there in the alley, completely unprotected. He kept telling himself it was just for a moment.

Minutes (five, ten, twenty- who knew?) later, the sound of steps growing closer gave him the needed push to get moving. He stood up gingerly, before pulling out the resolve his mother had quite literally beat into him. Squaring his shoulders he took a deep breath, turning around to grab the fire escape and swing himself up it. Ignoring any pain he may or may not be feeling, the young de Vil pushed on, climbing up to the ledge he had been perched on earlier. Sitting there (with his feet tucked up in front of him, he wasn't making the same mistake twice) he waiting to see who had been approaching. During that time, he registered the growing sound of yelling and singing. He must be closer to the Chip Shop than he'd thought.

He could've fled, but experience told him a still body in the dark drew less attention than a moving one. Once the person left, he'd make his way home. 

The steps grew louder, a shadow growing along the wall. It seemed to take forever, the anticipation building, before the body _finally_ came into sight. It was Jonas, one of Uma's crew. The last time Carlos had seen him, had been that day he was with ~~Harry~~ Hook. Sure enough, the pirate was followed by another, clad in red leather and belts, swaggering as though he owned the world.

Carlos held his breath, doing a near perfect imitation of a statue. He did _not_ want to be caught in pirate territory, and certainly not by those two. For all that had happened between himself and Hook (absolutely nothing had happened. Nothing.) he was certain there would be no exemption for his being in the wrong place. Nobody entered their turf without an invite, or a clear reason (to eat at Ursula's, being the most common). 

He could only imagine why the pirates were headed down a dead-end alley, and was only mildly surprised when Jonas leaned up against the wall right below him, Hook lifting himself with ease to sit on an old crate across the alley. 

The pirates were silent, Jonas pulling out a pack of cigarettes and taking one before throwing it at the other pirate, who in turn threw him a book of matches after using one.

Carlos sat petrified, keeping his breathing shallow and soft as he watched the two older teens enjoy their smokes. He was glad at that moment for all the second hand smoke his mother had subjected him to over the years- he was directly in the path of Jonas' smoke, and if he wasn't accustomed to it he surely would have coughed.

Jonas started to relay a story about some poor sod he'd tortured that day at school, Hook listening with disinterest. It was too dark for Carlos to see the older boys face, but he swore he was staring right at him, instead of below him where Jonas was talking. 

After what felt like an eternity, the boys were flicking their butts to the ground and standing up. As Jonas began to leave, Hook waved him on.

“Gotta take a leak, I'll meet ya back there.”

And as Jonas slouched out of view, Carlos squeezed his eyes shut. He _really_ didn't need to see this.

The sound of a dog barking made the boy flinch before his mind even registered what was happening. It was the one thing he'd never been able to prevent, he was just so terrified of the beasts. 

He squeezed his arms tighter around his legs, too scared to open his eyes. Where had the monster come from? Could it get to him up-

A giggle floated up to him, followed by a gleeful “I know ye're there, Kit.”

His eyes cracked open, staring down to find Harry directly under him, manic-grin gleaming up at him. There was no dog, it was just Hook. Who, thankfully, hadn't pulled out his equipment to take a wizz in front of him. 

“Hi, Harry.”

Carlos let go of his legs, dropping them off the ledge to dangle down. Less because he felt comfortable with the older pirate, more because his muscles were screaming from being held stationary for so long. The game was up anyway, Hook obviously knew he was there. The pirate turned sideways, his shoulder resting against the wall level with Carlos' boot. 

“What're ye doin' all the way out here, Kit? Pretty far from home, ain't ye?”

Carlos huffed, swinging his legs to get the blood circulating through them again. “I didn't exactly plan on being here. I'm leaving, so you don't need to make a fuss.”

Harry tilted his head up to study the younger boy. “If ye were leavin', ye'd be gone. Why're ye still here, truly?”

Carlos sighed, knowing he couldn't outrun the pirate, and he definitely couldn't outfight him. The truth it was.

“I ended up here by accident, didn't realise how far I'd run. Then I was leaving, honestly, just trying to catch my bearings first.”

Hook's eyes narrowed, though he didn't comment, thankfully. A silence fell between the two as Carlos continued to swing his legs and stretch the rest of his limbs, grunting every time he irritated his back. His stomach was quietly growling at him too, reminding him of his stolen meal. Just as he was thinking it was time to leave, the younger boy was startled by the pirates soft voice floating up to him.

“Have ye had dinner? I'm hungry. Wait here.”  
  
Hook took off after barking that order, leaving Carlos stumped. Should he wait, like Harry had said? Or was this a trap, and was waiting the stupidest thing he could do? Was Hook just fetching the rest of the crew, ready to come back with numbers? But that made no sense. Harry could take him out one-on-one, they both knew it. 

So Carlos took his chances, and waited. He may have stood and made sure his way to the roof was in reach, he wasn't an idiot. But maybe he was, doing what the insane pirate told him to do. Or maybe crazy would be ignoring him?

While he twisted his brain into knots trying to ascertain the correct way to handle this situation, Carlos didn't even notice Harry had returned until a tray of unidentifiable food slammed down next to his boot.

“What-?”

Harry grabbed some chips off the tray, shoving them in his mouth before gripping the ledge next to Carlos' boot, lifting himself up effortlessly and twisting so he was sitting next to the younger boy. Leaning across him, he grabbed the tray of food.

“C'mon, sit down and eat. The foods not so bad, if ye eat it quick.”

Carlos sat, wondering how hard he'd hit his head earlier. If he was hallucinating (what else could this be?), then maybe it was more serious than he'd first thought.

Harry sat the tray between then, nudging it closer to the younger boy.

“Go on Kit, I knew ye're hungry. I could hear yer stomach talkin' ta me before.”

Cheeks flushing, Carlos grabbed a handful of... something, shoving it into his mouth quickly so he wouldn't have to reply. How embarrassing. They ate in silence for a while, until eventually Carlos realised Harry had stopped eating and was just sitting there, one leg dangling with the other up, arm casually leaning on his knee. He looked relaxed, content.

Carlos poked at the food left on the tray, feeling full but not happy with leaving anything on his plate. He was too used to being hungry to be comfortable with wasting food.

“Had enough?” The pirates voice made him jump slightly, before nodding.

Harry pulled the tray closer to himself before quickly polishing off what was left. Had he been waiting for Carlos to eat what he'd wanted? Why would he care about Carlos eating? 

Completely baffled with the situation, the boy shook his head, raising a hand to check the back of it once again. As he touched the slight bump, he winced. It definitely felt small, and wasn't bleeding. So why was he imagining such strange things?

Hook had watched his movements, his gaze sharp like an eagles. Without saying anything, he reached over to feel the back of Carlos' head. The young boy sat still, too stunned (and scared) to move. What on earth was Hook doing? Hissing as he touched the sore spot, Carlos batted his arm away.

“Ye're hurt.”

Carlos snorted. “I'm fine. It's just a tiny bump.”

Harry's eyes narrowed. “Ye don't mess with head knocks, Kit. Just look at Gil, he's taken one too many from his Da.”

That explained _so many_ things. Carlos' brain fired up, connections pinging as old thoughts and observations connected and fell into place. 

He sat quietly, at first because he was absorbing that information, and then because he didn't know what to say. Harry was being, dare he say it, _nice_. He really didn't want to change that, which left him not knowing what to say or do.

A voice in the distance, maybe a street over, rang out. “Harry Hook get your arse in here now!”

It was Uma, and she sounded _pissed_. Where Carlos would have been worried, at the least, Hook slid off the ledge before grabbing the tray with a grin.

“Captain calls! See ya later, Kit. Get outta here, would ya?”

Carlos jumped up, staring down at the pirate. “Yeah, yeah I'm off. Later, Ha- Hook.”

Carlos made his way back to Hell Hall in a daze, no longer focused on the aches and pains he felt. Now he was mulling over if his hallucinating was a sign of head injury, or just his mothers madness being passed on to him. It was years earlier than he'd expected it, however, so probably not that.

What on earth was going on? A _nice_ Harry Hook? Feeding him? Idly, his gaze turned to the sky. Perhaps a pig would fly backwards, and that sure was something he'd like to see.


	4. Chapter 4

The next two weeks were odd for Carlos. On the surface, everything was normal- but it all felt so different. Even the few beatings he avoided (and the two he didn't) seemed different to him. It was like... reality hadn't changed, but his perspective had. He figured it had something to do with the amount of time he spent thinking about Hook.

Sure, the guy was hot (he wasn't blind), but it wasn't like that (mostly). He was just so confused. Carlos couldn't for the life of him understand the older boys actions over the last few weeks; he was completely baffling.

Who on earth did the things he had done? Who let others sleep on them, or gave them free food, for no apparent reason? No personal gain, no benefits.

These thoughts plagued him, with no answer in sight. It wasn't like his tinkering with things in the tree-house- there was no answer. No moment when the correct answer just slapped him in the face (even if the answer was never to mix those two particular substances again). He was just left with doubt and confusion- emotions he was familiar with, but not fond of.

School was as per normal, home was the same. Cruella did spend a weekend at the spa (or whatever the Isle had that passed for one), meaning Carlos managed to finish off quite a few of the items Jay had wanted fixed, despite his distraction. He didn't intend to tell Jay that, however. Why hand them all over immediately, when he could drip-feed them over a few weeks and buy himself an extended protection from the older boy?

So things had just been floating along, when it happened. Another one of those days came along, with no warning at all.

It was Cruella (when was it not?), waiting for him when he arrived home to start on his afternoon chores. Which was a large, blaring warning sign for him- as his mother never, in all the years he'd been around, had been waiting for him.

She was waiting at the head of the dining table, as regal as always (at least, what she believed to be regal. More unhinged, to everybody else) as she stared at the doorway, waiting for her son. Carlos froze when he entered, not expecting anybody to be there let alone her. His mind raced. She shouldn't be there, why was she there?

It all went downhill from there.

Hours later, Carlos made his shaky way out of the house. He listened to the fading sound of her engine, knowing the monster of his story was gone. For now. The young man paused at the base of the ladder, eyeing it. It seemed like a mountain, but if there was one thing the exhausted boy was accustomed to, it was facing mountains on a daily basis. So he hauled his stiff body up the ladder, ignoring everything but his goal.

He sat on the floor of the tree-house, leaning against the wall with his knees pulled up tightly to his chest. His arms wrapped around them, making himself as small as possible. Carlos let his forehead rest against his knees, holding his breath. When he couldn't hold it any longer, it exploded out in a rush only for him to suck in a replacement quickly to hold once again.

He wouldn't cry. He couldn't cry. He couldn't let this get to him, he had to be stronger. He could handle this. He could.

By the time his breathing had settled, Carlos was feeling stiff and sore from the complete lack of movement. He wasn't sure how much time had passed- he was sure that he didn't care. He definitely wasn't going home tonight. Lifting his head backwards, he let it smack into the wall. The dull thud was pleasing, he noted absently as his hand wiped his face of any moisture.

He sat there his mind swirling with thoughts of the day he'd had, mixed with his normal mantra of verbal abuse from his mother, and other taunts he'd had thrown at him throughout his life. It all mixed into a big ball that he couldn't separate out, couldn't focus on one individual thought. All he could do was sit there and stew in his self-loathing and pity.

The sound of a hand grabbing the edge of the opening caused his heart to skip a beat. Somebody was here. The question, really, was who it could be. The options flashing through his mind were Jay, Hook and on the very rare, very horrendous occasion his mother. His gaze zeroed in on the hand, assessing the black leather glove and rings adorning it. Definitely not his mother, thank goodness. Jay tended towards red gloves, so Carlos had to figure it was Harry Hook.

His suspicions were confirmed as toned arms hauled the pirates body into the small space. Harry Hook stood there (looking like a freaking model), glancing about the space until his gaze settled on the original occupant.

He really didn't have the energy to deal with this right now. Staring blankly up at the older boy, Carlos wondered what he wanted. Why did everybody have to want something? Why couldn't Carlos be the one that wanted something for once?

Hook stood there, staring down at the younger boy. His head tilted as he absorbed the scene before him, not saying a word.

Carlos let his forehead drop back onto his knees. Whatever Hook wanted, he would be sure to let him know. Carlos didn't need to be watching, waiting with baited breath for whatever it was everybody needed from him. Like the damn puppy that his mother had managed to get everybody to believe he was, eager to drop everything and please everybody else.

A weight settled across the back of his neck, startling Carlos from his inner contemplation. He instinctively flinched, clutching his hands tighter into his elbows before his entire body froze- like a possum in headlights. What was Hook up to? A gentle- almost uncertain- hand settled onto his shoulder, warmth settling from there across his shoulder and down his side.

Slowly, so softly that he almost lifted his head to see if it were actually happening and not just his imagination, fingers feathered down his arm and rested over his hand. Gradually, they intermingled with his own, relaxing his own grip and caressing his fingers.

Carlos' brain, which had been whirling frantically since the moment he'd entered the tree-house hours earlier, came to a screeching halt.

Was Harry... Holding his hand?

By the time their fingers were completely interlaced, the young teen had to admit it to himself. Harry Hook was holding his hand. And it felt... Nice. It was pleasant. Comforting, even.

He felt his muscles begin to loosen, his head tilting towards the warmth sitting next to him. The thumb of Harry's hand begun moving in circles over the back of Carlos' own. His body pretty much turned into putty, and he melted against Harry's side. His thoughts calmed, no longer racing along as they had been, instead settling down into processable thoughts and manageable ideas.

Like, since when did Harry Hook sit still for this long if he wasn't sleeping? Why was he even here in the first place, and why had he decided to just.. Sit with Carlos, comfort him, without words?

“With me yet Kit?”

The words were soft, and Carlos realised Harry's head must be tucked on top of his own, by the rush of air across his hair.

He pondered the words. Then shrugged.

Harry nodded, then shifted slightly where he sat. Suddenly, a soft voice broke the silence.

Harry was humming. It took Carlos a moment to place the melody- it was obviously a jaunty pirate song, meant to be sung loudly, off-tune and certainly not quietly as a soothing almost-lullaby. He couldn't even begin to imagine what the lyrics would be, he was also pretty sure he didn't want to know.

Though, Harry probably had a nice singing voice. He wouldn't mind hearing that. Maybe he did want Harry to sing. The humming was still really nice, the vibrations from Harry's chest rocking his body in a soothing way.

They sat there like that, Harry humming random tunes as Carlos slowly loosened up, unwinding his muscles and stretching out his limbs.

At some point, Carlos had moved towards Harry enough that the arm around his shoulders dropped to his waist, where the pirate began to fiddle with his tail.

Hook ceased the humming, his words coming out so soft it took a moment for Carlos to realise they had been words at all.

“I guess this tail is like me hook, eh?”

The younger boy tilted his head back, gazing into blue eyes (thin eyeliner today) trying to assess his intentions.

“How so?”

If his voice was scratchy, neither of them acknowledged it.

“A part of me Da I carry around with pride, won't let anyone touch... But at the same time, I hate it. I hate 'im. But hell if anyone's getting me hook.”

“Yeah, I guess so. My tail... She gave it to me. I was so proud to have a fur of my own, just like hers. Something to show she liked me. Now... Now I hate it. Hate her. But. It's mine. I can't _not_ wear it.”

Harry hummed and squeezed the hand he was still holding.

“Ready to tell me what happened ta get ye like this?”

Carlos dropped his gaze from where he hadn't been staring at Harry. Totally hadn't.

“I'd rather not think about it. Ever.”

“Just remember, Kit. I owe ye a favour. That's not limited to just other kids ye know. I could deal with her, if ye asked me to.”

Shock caused Carlos to pull away, unlacing their fingers and ending any contact their bodies had. He couldn't be serious. It was one thing to offer to beat up a few bullies. It was something else entirely to offer to deal with an adult. Especially Cruella- she was one of the bigger names, if anything happened to her there would be minions out for blood. She was like Maleficent, or Jafar. Untouchable, simply due to status.

Also, she was bat-shit crazy, and nobody wanted that to rub off on them. Like cooties. Carlos still hadn't worked out who had been desperate enough to sleep with her, creating him. Then again, a lot of the guys on this Isle weren't exactly discerning about their bed partners (or their willingness to be bed partners).

But back to Hook offering to, what- deal? with his mother. Was that an offer to talk to her? Kill her? Throw her off a cliff?

“You're insane. Nobody touches her.”

Harry shrugged, stretching his legs out like he hadn't a care in the world. “Aye. But she's only human. A weak one, at that. I could take her, easy.”

Carlos stood, wobbling slightly on weak legs.

“You can't just say things like that!”

Harry cocked his head, picking his hook up to twirl between his hands idly.

“And why not? It's true. I would, if that's what ye demanded. I owe a favour, and I don't welsh on me debts.”

Carlos snorted. “You're a pirate. Of course you do.”

Hook lurched up- one moment he was sitting casually, the next his hook was against Carlos' cheek and his face leering right in front of his own.

“Other pirates, maybe. But I'm a Hook, and if there's one thing me Da taught me, it was to live by the code. And code says a man lives by his word. I gave ye my word, and I'll not have you disrespectin' me by saying I won't honour it.”

Carlos gulped. This was the Hook everybody knew and was afraid of. He'd forgotten, almost, what Harry was truly like. The crazed pirate, out to hurt. He'd started to buy into the comfort and safety he'd been offered by the other boy. He'd started to trust in his safety with him. The hook in his face told him otherwise. He was just as at risk as any other, should he upset the older boy.

“Harry, I didn't mean it like that. I don't know anything about being a pirate, or any code. I just thought pirates take what they want, and screw the rest.”

Hook huffed, moving his hook to play with the curls at the back of Carlos' neck. 

“Everybody thinks they know pirates, but they don't. We have honour, we have class. Well, some of us.”

Carlos smiled faintly. “I can actually see that. I wouldn't figure you for the general grunt. You're better than that.”

Harry grinned, and even though it was probably meant to scare him, Carlos found his racing heart had calmed. Now they were talking, and Harry wasn't growling... It was probably the best he'd felt all day.

“Aye, Kit. I live by the code, the only thing me Da ever bothered ta teach me. I may steal and plunder, but I do it right. And I do right by those that are mine.”

The intent look that went with the words caused Carlos to snicker. 

“What? You think I'm yours now?”

Sometimes after talking, Carlos wondered if the Isle had finally driven him to suicide. This was one of those times. Was he  _trying_ to piss off the bigger, older, stronger, taller, much more dangerous pirate with the short fuse?

“Aye, you're me Kitten. And like I said, I owe ye a favour. So whenever you decide to call that in, I'll do it.”

There was a promise behind those words, one that meant something. Carlos could feel it, the way he could feel his mother didn't mean him when she spoke of her only love (her furs). It lay under the words, in the tone and the look accompanying it. He didn't know what to do with that. 

What the hell should he do with that? That was awful close to caring, something he was pretty sure nobody had ever bothered to do for him. He had no idea what to say, what to do. How to act. 

Harry dropped the hook to his side, leaning back against the wall to look casually bored. Carlos took the few steps to his desk, then used that to prop his hip as he fiddled with the tail dangling from his belt loop, staring at the pirate.

He cleared his throat, then gave a half shrug. “Sure, Harry. I'll keep that in mind.”

The silence that fell between them was charged, and extremely awkward (on Carlos' behalf, at least). Harry remained leaning against the wall, idly fiddling with his hook as he stared down at Carlos. 

Carlos remained leaning against his table, looking absolutely anywhere but at Harry. He didn't know what to say, what to do. He'd never been in a situation like this! Life truly would be easier if the older boy would just assault him, and what a sad reflection on his life that was. 

Clearing his throat, Hook pulled out his pocketwatch to check the time before tucking it away once more. 

“Well, this has been fun and all, but I've things to do, people to see. Catcha later, Kit.”

With barely a rustle, the pirate was gone. Carlos slid down to the floor, staring after him. One day he would understand the older teen. Today was not that day. He doubted tomorrow looked any better. The guy was an enigma, wrapped in a mystery. And Carlos hated not knowing.

What was his end-game? Was this all an elaborate setup? That wasn't really Hook's style, nor Uma's. Also, he wasn't a big enough player to be targeted for a scheme like that. All he ranked at was being shoved into lockers. 

So if it wasn't that, was he perhaps being genuine? Was it all for real, the caring and protecting? Were the friendly gestures actually that- friendship? Carlos had never had a friend, he wasn't sure how to tell. 

Sighing, the young boy crawled over to his blanket, curling up on it to fall asleep. At least there, he had respite from his reality. 

~~~~~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was shorter, but there's a reason for that. I'm trying to bring actual plot-line to this story, and that means what I've got written next just absolutely needed to be on it's own. I tried to pad this out... but that just didn't feel right. So this'll have to do.


	5. Chapter 5

_One year later._

Carlos de Vil had grown all of one inch in the time since he had started this... Association... with Harry Hook.

Harry, who had grown three inches, took great pleasure in said fact and made sure the younger boy knew it.

They had something of a routine, that they had never spoken of and never would. Two or three nights a week, Carlos would have a visitor in his tree-house, sometimes with something for him to tinker with, sometimes food.

On the rare occasion, one of them would be patching up injuries on the other. On the not-so-rare occasion, they would sit next to each other, holding hands or wrapped around one another. It was not cuddling- Carlos wasn't sure what it was, but it was certainly not that. It was merely comfort, and there was no way he would be denying any of that in his life. He wasn't sure what Harry got from it, maybe it helped him to feel safe too (though Carlos doubted that). Whatever it was, Carlos felt no need to question it. Gift horse, mouth.

Whenever they saw each other in public (which thankfully wasn't that often), they acted as though nothing had changed for them. Carlos was meek and mild, attempting to stay unnoticed. Harry, if he saw the young boy, would bark like a dog and enjoy the startled flinch it would produce without fail.

Neither of them spoke of their little arrangement, though it went without saying that they would tell nobody. It was a weakness that could easily be exploited, and neither wanted that. So simple Isle rules said don't mention it, pretend it doesn't exist and maybe it won't be taken from you.

On this particular night they were in a good mood. Neither had had an overly bad day, Harry had scored some hot chips for them to share, and Carlos had gotten a broken radio to work so they could listen to some old cassette tapes. Tapes, because CDs hardly ever survived the trip to the Isle. Cassettes were a fair bit hardier, and therefor were what the Isle worked with.

Carlos' cousin Diego was in a band and had given the younger boy one of their recordings so that was what they were listening to. Harry was sitting against the wall with his legs stretched across the floor as Carlos sat beside him, legs curled underneath himself as they both munched away on the chips.

“So I heard a rumor today.”

Harry glanced over at the younger boy, smiling a bit. The kid really did love his gossip, though he'd never admit it. And it was ridiculously usefull too, as blackmail. Knowing people's sore spots always worked.

“Yeah? What's happening now?”

“Well, I heard there's a new kid coming to my school next week.”

Harry shrugged, not interested. “So someone's transferring, wonder who.”

Carlos grinned up at him, crinkling his nose a little.

“Nope. She was home-schooled, apparently. I checked the files, it's a girl your age.”

Neither of them knew it, but one of those terrible, horrible days was looming. And while it was headed for both of them, Harry was the target that would be hit with the most negative impact.

~~~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~~~~

Carlos didn't see much of his pirate over the next week, he was busy with the new girl – Evie- and keeping her alive. She was like a lamb to the slaughter, especially around Mal. Homeschooling had not been the right call, the girl had no idea how to protect herself.

The one time the two Isle boys did manage to meet, he replaced the glass screen of Harry's pocket-watch as they discussed Evie, Harry asking just enough questions to keep Carlos talking. Carlos didn't know it, but Harry didn't much care what Carlos spoke about, he just liked to hear the enthusiasm in his voice, see the spark in his eyes.

Carlos figured Harry just wanted dirt on the new girl, for future extortion and threatening. They spent that night listening to music and chatting softly. They sat together, sharing body heat until it was late enough that Harry took off- staying the night happened mostly when one of them was in a bad way, and comfort was needed. It was too uncomfortable and cold to make it a regular occurrence. Besides, it was in their best interests to actually be where their parents believed they were, at least some of the time.

The day came when Mal discovered Cruella was away for the night, so she informed Carlos he was to host a party for her. In Hell Hall. The young de Vil felt like screaming. Either his mother would kill him, or Mal would. Either way, he was dead. The entire time he was preparing for it, a little voice in the back of his head was just hoping and wishing Harry would show up. The pirate would know what to do, how to make this better.

He busted his ass setting everything up to proper howler standards- not that he was a party animal, or had any idea what was actually required. But he gave it his best guess, and hoped to come out the other side of this intact. He wished he'd asked Harry more questions about even one party the older teen had attended- Harry'd only mentioned them in passing, and Carlos had never pressed for details.

When Evie was pushed into his closet, that was about when Carlos snapped. He was sick of it all, sick of being the whipping boy. And now his newest maybe-friend had seen his bedroom, so that was cool. He loved advertising just how pathetic he was. Even Harry hadn't seen that (and never would if Carlos had his way). So he rescued his new friend, and they went to his sanctuary where they geeked out over his inventions.

It was nice, having somebody who spoke his language. Harry listened but he didn't much care for whatever Carlos was working on, and never gave any suggestions on how to better make something. Evie however, was more than happy to bounce ideas around about his projects.

Maybe, just maybe, he could have a second friend?

It was about when they turned on his latest experiment and it _worked_ , that Carlos realised something bigger might be happening here. Mostly, it was the spine tingling sensation that washed over him as the beam of _something_ shot up and through the roof, out to hit the barrier.

He'd done that. That was scary. That was bigger than getting more stations on his TV, and his first instinct was to tell Harry, get his opinion on it. Instead, he sent Evie home, put the machine away and went to start cleaning up from the party, as though nothing had ever happened.

~~~~*****~~~~~

The next day Evie showed up at his house with Mal and Jay, forcing him to show them his invention. He wasn't very pleased about having all these extra people in his sacred space- what would happen if Harry showed up while Mal and Jay were here?

It was bad enough that Jay already visited occasionally, but now for Mal to know about it as well? That was about as sucky as the fact that his invention no longer worked. It just beeped now, nothing like the show it had put on the previous night.

The other three wanted to take his invention, deciding it must be a homing beacon to the Dragon's Eye (which apparently was a thing again. Go figure). Carlos- not being a complete and utter moron- wouldn't part from his possession. He'd never see it again if he let them take it and he'd dropped a lot of rare and precious parts (that Harry had gotten for him) into this machine. He would simply not part with it.

And so he was roped into a strange, bewildering adventure.

He was forced to admit out loud just how much his mother loved him (not at all), in front of these three older teens that he didn't really know. By the end of the trip, he did feel slightly closer to them despite returning empty handed, the mission having been a complete and utter waste of time. The scepter had disappeared under their noses- they'd done the hard work for no reward. What was the point of it all?

So it was a disheartened Carlos that sat in his tree-house that night, leaning against Harry's side as he explained where he had been, what had happened. The pirate rubbed his arm soothingly, listening as the younger boy let loose all the pent up emotion from his journey and the days leading up to it. Harry cursed Mal and Jay in the right places, hugged him closer when he spoke of what he'd had to admit about his mother.

The pirate was actually a rather good listener, Carlos mused once he was finished. He knew things were changing, could feel it in his bones. The others had seemed to warm up to him, and to be honest he had to them as well.

Harry would no longer be his only friend and as exciting as that was, it made him nervous too. His pirate wasn't exactly on good terms with Mal and Jay. Carlos didn't want to end up in the middle of that mess, though the fact that he and Harry had never let their friendship become public knowledge might work in his favor this time.

That night when they parted, Harry headed off to whatever it was he did when away from Carlos, as the boy himself headed not for Hell Hall, but towards the market. He had a feeling his new.. allies... would be there, and he wanted to see how this new dynamic was going to work.

~~~~***~~~~

Things settled into a new rhythm over the next few weeks. Jay, Mal, Evie and Carlos became something of a gang, raising hell throughout the Isle on a daily basis. Admittedly there were some issues between them- a lifetime of being loners wasn't going to make for them being great team players. But for the most part, things went well.

Mal was the leader, and her beef with Uma and the wharf rats became _their_ beef. Which was fine, apart from how Harry Hook was Uma's first mate... And Carlos' best and oldest friend. Which made some of their gang fights pretty awkward. But they stuck to their normal strategies, Harry going for cheap scare tactics that led to him fighting Jay instead of Carlos. Which was fine by Carlos, he was in no way strong enough to take on the pirate, and if Jay wanted to protect him, that just meant Carlos didn't have to fight his friend.

He and Harry still spent some nights together, though they needed to be more careful as Evie had taken to randomly showing up to the tree-house unannounced. Jay had the same habit and though his visits were not as frequent, they were certainly more so than before. The two teens managed it however, keeping Carlos' separate social lives from exploding in his face.

He and Harry didn't talk about their other friends, they kept to neutral topics or comfortable silences. He'd let Carlos sleep in his arms the night after Cruella punished him for the failed mission (Carlos wasn't sure how Harry had known, but the pirate appeared when he needed him, every time).

Then the day came that changed everything. Carlos was wreaking mayhem in the market with his gang when Maleficent summoned them. Seeing all of their parents together was enough to reduce him to a whimpering mess.

Hearing he had to leave the Isle left him stunned. The mere idea had never so much as occurred to him, how was he meant to process this?

Before the young man had a chance to even take a breath, he was in a limo heading away from the only home he'd ever known.

Away from Harry.

And he'd never had the chance to say goodbye, couldn't even leave a note.

He watched the Isle fade away out the rear window, heart breaking for the friend he was leaving behind.

~~~~****~~~~~

Harry heard through the grapevine that a limo had appeared, taking some kids off of the Isle. He had originally scoffed at that, not believing it for a second. Nobody ever escaped the Isle, everybody knew that.

It made for good gossip though, and he knew exactly who would love to hear it. He headed towards Hell Hall, wondering what his little Kitten would think about it. As he meandered through the marketplace, he overheard more of the rumors.

Something in his chest clenched, and he grit his teeth. If the kids that were gone- not that anybody was gone!- were indeed Mal and her gang, then that would mean...

No.

No, Carlos wouldn't leave him here.

He picked up the pace, wanting nothing more than to see his smaller friend. Only once he got there, the tree-house was empty. The pirate camped out for hours, and eventually overnight, hoping that curly hair would pop up any minute now.

The next day he joined Uma in swearing vengeance against the traitors. The ones who had abandoned them, left them behind to rot.

~~~~~****~~~~~


	6. Chapter 6

Carlos' head was spinning. It had been ever since that stupid shiny limo had appeared in his life only hours ago, and he didn't anticipate it stopping any time soon. The constant fear wasn't helping him any. Every new sound was a dog barking, every shadow a mutt ready to pounce.

It was a nightmare, and he just wanted Harry to wake him up.

It had all started with a sugar high, (something he'd never experienced before, and dearly wished never to again as the vomiting and stomach ache were _so_ not worth it) leaving him keyed up and almost vibrating as the prince had given them a quick tour of the school.

Man, that prince. He was something else. Carlos had no idea how to act around somebody so... shiny. In fact, they all were. Everybody here was shiny, and smiley. And _nice_. He'd no idea where to look, what to say. So he'd followed the others, letting them talk and act for him.

When he'd seen the mirror in his bathroom ( _his bathroom!)_ he'd been mortified. That entire time, he'd had chocolate smeared around his mouth? And in typical island style, none of his crew had told him. But Jay _had_ caught him when the statue scared Carlos ( _how the fuck had stone morphed like that? It defied all logic, all laws of... Oh yeah. Magic. Huh._ ), so obviously they were in protective mode as well.

Honestly, Audrey was about the only person he could wrap his head around so far. She had to keep up her image and so was playing nice, but it was obvious she didn't want them there. That was actually good, he knew where he stood with her. He could anticipate her actions, how she would respond to things. But Ben? He seemed to genuinely want them there, and that was just.. insane.

  
  


Then came their room. Man, an actual room. He had to share it with Jay, but to be honest that didn't faze him at all. Jay was part of the crew and even though that didn't protect him from Jay himself, that _did_ protect him from anybody else. Jay kinda treated Carlos like a younger brother/object. He was Jay's to torment, tease and hassle (though most of it was good-natured these days) and if anybody else tried, he would take them down for daring to mess with what was his.

They had their own beds, with pillows and blankets and all. Both boys tried to play it cool, but Carlos could tell the older teen was as stunned and excited by it as he was. Finally, he'd get to sleep in an actual bed (something he'd dreamed of so many times from his 'room' at home). They had a bathroom, with water that ran hot reliably, and no mould or cracks in the walls.

The room was warm, the windows opened and shut properly with ease and everywhere he looked was something else to catch his attention and blow his mind.

The game console had drawn him immediately, despite how horrible he felt after all the candy made it's reappearance. It was motion sensitive, the graphics were amazing, hardly any lag- he couldn't help but immerse himself in it. He'd never imagined being able to get his hands on one, it was almost a dream come true.

The girls killed his joy by insisting upon a trip to get the wand, when all he wanted to do was play with the new tech. Jay had scored a laptop that he was itching to have a decent play with, not to mention his stomach was still unsettled and he just wanted to sleep.

As they trekked to the museum, he daydreamed about how life would be once they freed the Isle. Would he be able to keep his friendship with Harry? Once evil reigned, surely he could escape his mother. She'd be busy killing animals for their pelts, he doubted his absence would even be noticed. He'd be free.

Maybe he could get a house here in Auradon (surely there would be plenty abandoned in the process of it all), maybe Harry would join him and they could live together away from their parents. Near the ocean, so the pirate could get a ship maybe. And with internet, so Carlos could explore all this tech to his hearts content.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~

  
  


The next day- after a failed mission and the torture that had been attending classes where the kids not only showed up, but paid attention- came tourney practice.

Jay took to the sport like a duck to water, though the same could not be said for the young De Vil. The very first thing that happened, was Jay dominating the field. Carlos, not knowing the game objective, rules or even what position he was meant to be playing, could only drop and protect himself when Jay charged him.

It didn't help, not really. When the older and heavier boy used Carlos' shield to launch himself higher into the air, the younger boy felt his arm protest. Loudly. He didn't hear a crack, so was fairly confident it hadn't broken. But it was definitely throbbing and moving his wrist sent shooting pain up the arm. He stood there, listening to the coach completely dismiss him and praise Jay (honestly not caring in the least), when Ben surprisingly jumped to his defense, offering to practice with him.

Bugger, there went his easy out. But if the prince wanted him on the team, he'd suck it up and be on the team. It was only temporary, anyway. He just had to work out how to hold a shield with an arm that was screaming in protest.

And so it was that the next day after classes, Carlos' worst nightmare became reality. At least, one of them did.

He was with Ben, determined to keep the prince happy even if that meant running around a field like a moron, (with his arm throbbing any time he moved it) when he heard it. For a split-second, he'd thought Harry was behind him, yipping like a dog- and his heart soared. Harry!

Then his entire being flooded with ice as he realised that wasn't possible, so it must be a real dog. His mother had warned him, the beasts just run around here completely uncontrolled. They could smell fear.

  
  


So he did the only thing he could think of, and ran for it. As fast as he could, Carlos sprinted for the forest. Dogs couldn't climb (he hoped), if he could just make it to the trees maybe he could climb one and hide out.

  
  


He barely heard Ben yelling after him, ears flooded with his own blood pumping, and the barking that was getting closer by the second. He pushed himself, muscles burning as he pelted along, barely feeling his feet hitting the ground. Carlos entered the forest, scanning trees as he passed them. He need one with a branch low enough to grab, thick enough to hold his weight. He'd have one shot at this, is he screwed it up he was dog food. Literally.

  
  


Seeing a branch that fit his criteria, Carlos braced himself for the lurch as he grabbed it, using the momentum to throw his body higher, shoulders taking the impact. He tried to take as much of the load with his right arm as possible, but the motion still sent fire down his left arm. That was going to keep him awake at night, for sure.

It seemed to work, though. He was out of reach, safe up higher than the dog could get to.

His breath was coming in short pants, and his hands shook where they clung to the tree. His feet kept trying to slip lower, so he focused all his energy on holding them higher, out of harms way.

He wanted Harry. He wanted to be back on the Isle. This never would have happened there, not only were there no dogs there- even if there were, Harry would never let one get to him.

  
  


He bet even if it were in public, Harry would find a way to save him. The tall pirate had a way of protecting him, even as he appeared to be tormenting the younger boy. His chest hurt, it ached in a way Carlos wasn't familiar with as he thought of Harry. He missed him, so much.

More than he ever thought he would, though it didn't really surprise him. Harry made him feel safe. And he certainly didn't feel safe here, clinging to a tree with a dog waiting to maul him below.

~~~~****~~~~

Carlos sat on his bed ( _his bed!)_ , eyes locked on the furry being sitting in front of him. Dude (the dog that had chased him) had evidently worn himself out and was sound asleep.

The door opened, pulling Carlos from his thoughts as Jay sauntered in. The older boy kicked the door shut behind himself, quickly unloading his pockets onto his own bed as he greeted his room-mate with an absent nod.

He paused in the middle of pulling some headphones from inside his leather jacket, head slowly rotating towards the other bed.

“Uh, you realise that's a dog on your bed, right?”

Carlos huffed, crossing his arms and not removing his stare from the furry form.

“I am aware.”

The thief returned to emptying his pockets of today's loot, eyes still on his younger friend.

“And yet, you're not crying. Or screaming. I'm confused.”

The young De Vil moaned, nodding. Eyes still not budging from their spot.

“Me too. I think... I think he _likes_ me.”

Jay pushed for details, so Carlos gave them. They debated what to do, before Jay settled the issue with a careless promise to deal with the mutt should Carlos ever ask him to.

And, in true Isle fashion, that was that. Dude was accepted into the fold, and with each tail wag and face lick, Carlos was a little less wary of the four legged creature, a little more smitten with him.

~~~****~~~

One thing that became evident, was the complete and utter lack of alone time one had in Aurdon. The first week wasn't even over, and Carlos already felt entirely smothered. If he wasn't in class with other students, or at a meal with the entire student body, or practise with the team, then he was in either his dorm room or the girls'- with the gang.

There was safety in numbers of course, so they hardly ever split up. But that meant he was never alone. Never. And for somebody who had spent the majority of his life enjoying his own company and actively avoiding others, that was a hard adjustment.

Especially since sharing with Jay was... Difficult. The guy was a jock, through and through. He had no patience for Carlos wanting to complete homework in silence. His answer to boredom was always physical- his go-to solution was always to roughhouse. Which was not one of Carlos' favorite activities, to say the least.

He left stolen items all over their room, making Carlos nervous. What would happen if somebody found them, if the were both accused of stealing? He didn't even steal them for a reason, just out of habit. And since they were staying for slightly longer than anticipated, Carlos took up a new habit- hiding the items around the school in random places. Hopefully, they wouldn't be traced back to the Isle boys, as they couldn't afford the extra eyes and doubt on them.

And okay, maybe he did keep a few things. He _was_ an Isle kid, after all, and he wanted a laptop. So now he had a laptop.

Carlos suspected Mal was feeling the same way he was, her temper seemed shorter than ever and stress levels through the roof. She was fixated on the damned wand, nothing swaying her from her mission.

So Carlos quickly discovered that Dude could be a good cover story, as dogs needed to be walked.

Once a day, after dinner he could take off with the mutt and nobody questioned it. He could walk into the treeline (okay, that probably wasn't allowed, but whatever) and disappear from sight. Carlos felt more himself in those moments then all day long when he tried to be what they wanted him to be.

He walked along for as long as he pleased, lost in his own head with nobody to pull him out. Nobody could see the emotions on his face, so they couldn't ask questions he didn't want to answer. It was his favorite time of day, relaxing in a way nothing else was. Peaceful.

~~~***~~~

  
  


Night-time was the worst. Trying to sleep, in such a large open space was hard enough. Adding in Jay presence just ruined any chance of him actually sleeping. It wasn't that he didn't trust the other boy... just that he didn't. Too many years of being bullied to easily make himself that vulnerable around him.

So he lay there and mostly thought of the Isle. Who was doing what, how things were without them. Was Harry pissed at him for leaving? It wasn't like he'd had a choice, but the pirate wouldn't know that. He probably thought Carlos had jumped at the chance and not looked back once.

After they get the wand and the dust settles, Carlos imagines getting to talk to the older boy would be tricky. But he would do it- corner him if he had to. He'd explain what had happened, why he'd left with no word. Harry would eventually understand, he'd have to. And then they could get that place by the sea, maybe they wouldn't even have to hide their friendship any more.

His thoughts would then turn to his mother, the young De Vil falling asleep with her cackle echoing in his head, feelings of inadequacy and fear leading to the usual nightmares.

~~~~~******~~~~~~

They slowly adjusted to the new land, Evie and Jay more-so than Mal and himself. Carlos had never been that great at being evil – it turned out he was hardly any better at being good. He settled for his normal routine of sticking to himself, not drawing attention. It seemed to work, as much as it ever had.

Family day arrived, and he hadn't thought anything could be worse than that video-call from their parents. He was wrong.

The entire student body was against them now, hissing and jeering as they walked past. It kind of felt like home. He couldn't wait for Mal to get that wand, Auradon was just too stressful for him. At least on the Isle he knew his place. He knew how to survive, he knew the rules. Here, he was a fish out of water.

The whole love potion plan had seemed quite far fetched to him, and yet it seemed to be working. But then again it was magic, and Carlos just had no way to quantify that in his theories and plans. So he had left that up to the girls, trusting them to call on him if he was needed for anything.

That ceremony couldn't come soon enough. Carlos just wanted to get back to what he knew.

  
  


~~~~****~~~~

  
  


After the ceremony, after the four of them had sworn themselves to good, after the battle with Mal's mother, after the dancing and partying.. Carlos took Dude for a walk. He had a lot to ponder, and was sick of all the celebrating. Sure, he'd been caught in that tide, swept away with the excitement of it all.

But now reality was sinking in and Carlos wasn't loving what he was seeing of himself.

He trudged through the forest, barely looking where he was going as he internally castigated himself.

What sort of person was he to so easily forsake the Isle? His mother, yeah sure, anybody would understand that. But there were so many other people there, so many kids that had no business being there, who probably wouldn't survive to adulthood. And he'd had the chance to get them out- they all had. And they'd thrown it away, for what? To be good?

So they could feel good about their actions, an entire generation of children were going to suffer. And he knew that pain, intimately. Mal and Jay, even Evie- they didn't know that pain. They'd been sheltered from it, (their parents hurting them in other ways, certainly) but they didn't know hunger like he did, or how to deal with the pain of a beating as you carried out daily chores.

They didn't know how bad it really was for some kids. But he did. He knew, and he'd agreed to forsake them all, just so he could keep the cushy bed and good food. He was a monster, worse than he'd ever even believed himself to be capable of. He really did belong on the Isle after all.

  
  


~~~~****~~~~

  
  


The next day, when everybody was sleeping in after their big night celebrating, Carlos made his way to Ben's room, knocking softly on the door. He didn't want to wake the ~~prince~~ King, but knew he had to speak with him. Had to at least try.

The door opened, bleary eyes lowering to him (because of course, the prince was tall and handsome to boot) as a smile bloomed across his face. “Carlos, hello. What can I do for you?”

“Hey Ben. Uh, I was wondering if I could talk to you. Like, now or make an appointment, or-”

Ben chuckled, grabbing the younger boys arm to drag him into the room. “Now's fine, of course we can talk. Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?”

Carlos found himself sitting on a couch, so soft he was sinking into it. Ben shut the door before crossing to a mini fridge and removing two bottles of water, handing one to Carlos before sitting across from the boy, leaning his elbows on his knees as he gave his full attention.

“How can I help you?”

Carlos gave a fleeting smile, unsure what to say. This was as far as he'd made it in his head, never imagining the ~~prince~~ King would have the time to see him. His hands clutched the cold bottle he'd been handed, twisting it in his nervous grasp.

“So, we're going to be staying here. I mean, I hope that's the plan after everything...”

Ben nodded encouragingly, obviously waiting patiently for the younger boy to get to his point.

“I can't... I mean... There's a lot of kids still on the Isle, and I feel like.. I dunno. Are you going to bring more of them here?”

“That is the plan, yes. Now that the four of you have proven, very publicly, that Isle kids can be good, I'm hopeful that the council will allow me to push through the plans to get even more kids off of the Isle.”

“Good, that's good. Don't get me wrong, some of them are awful and probably deserve to be there, but some of those kids... They're just trying to survive. They don't want to be evil, don't want to be mean. They just have to be.”

Ben nodded, a gleam in his eye.

“Carlos, would I be wrong to wonder if maybe there was a name you'd like me to add to the top of the list? Somebody you're missing, perhaps?”

The soft, understanding smile softened the blow of his words, though Carlos still recoiled from them. He was being too transparent, damn it! If Ben worked out his weakness, who knew how he would use it over him?

“Uh, not right now.”

Ben frowned, confused. “I can't get them off the Isle if I don't know who they are, Carlos. I'll do my best, but at some point you'll have to tell me who.”

Nodding, Carlos looked anywhere but at the King. “I know. I know, but I can't tell you. Not now, not when. Um. Nobody knows, okay? I can't tell you his name, in case you tell Mal. She'd kill me.”

Ben blinked in surprise. He'd thought the Isle four were tight, that they were inseparable. But not only did Carlos have a secret relationship, it was one that would upset Mal? Enough to have Carlos afraid of her finding out, as well.

“This person, he's a good person?”

Carlos snorted. “No, not really. But he looks... looked after me. Gave me food, patched me up. He was good... to me. And I just left him there. Couldn't even say goodbye, didn't leave a note. Just abandoned him. And now... Now it's for good. I can't leave him there, I just can't.”

Ben stared at the younger boy in confusion.

“Why couldn't you say goodbye? You had a week to get everything in order, to say your goodbyes.”

Tilting his head in confusion, Carlos thought back and sighed.

“I'm guessing that our parents had a week. _We_ had about twenty minutes. It all happened so fast, all of a sudden we were in this limo, leaving the Isle. It was like a dream.”

Ben's normally soft eyes glinted like steel. He would be making certain that next time, his letters went to the children themselves. Obviously, Isle parents were far worse than he had worried before all of this had started.

  
  


He had to get those kids out of there.

  
  


~~~~****~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry. I detest this chapter, but after three re-writes, I realize it's not getting any better. I'm only enjoying writing our two boys together, it's no fun writing them apart. So I'm trying to fast forward until they can be together once again... And it totally shows. So, my apologies.
> 
> Also, a quick shout-out to anybody from my neck of the woods. Happy Anzac day, guys. Lest we forget. Stay safe, all.


	7. Chapter 7

Weeks passed. Carlos found a rhythm- dropping out of the tourney team was the best move he'd made since leaving the Isle. It gave him some time away from Jay, which in turn gave them things to discuss when they were together once again.

  
  


He spent most of his spare time on homework, catching up on all the schooling the Isle had screwed up for them. When he wasn't studying, he was walking Dude and trying not to pester Ben about the Isle kids.

  
  


He always dreaded those conversations, as he didn't want to hear that there was no progress; but he was also petrified of things moving along, of hearing that it was time to give Harry's name, having to admit to the others who it was he wanted.

  
  


Mal's reaction alone was going to be... epic. To say nothing of Jay's. Evie would probably be okay, due to her having never actually interacted with the pirate.

  
  


But that day never came for him. Every week when he asked Ben how it was going he got the same answer, like clockwork- he was 'working on it'. And he felt bad for pestering the child King, who looked so stressed and worn out already, but he needed to know that somebody was making an effort, that it wasn't just empty promises.

  
  


~~~~****~~~~

  
  


More time passed. Everybody settled in, found their place in this new land. And still, no more limos appeared from the Isle. No more children were liberated from that living hell.

  
  


Carlos dreamed of the boy he knew, wondering what he was doing and how things had changed for him. If he was alright, if he was even still alive.

  
  


He wrote a letter (a few letters) to the older boy, but could never send them. There was no guarantee they would make it to the intended recipient- and should it fall into the wrong hands, it could make life very difficult for the pirate.

  
  


So Carlos wrote his assurances, explained how he was getting the King onside and that Harry would be in the first batch to go. He wrote of missing him, of having an empty place in his heart for him – That letter was the first to go up in flames, quickly followed by the rest. No, he simply had to wait.

  
  


He missed having somebody to gossip with- Jay had zero interest in it, shutting him down every time he tried to start a conversation like that. Jane was better to gossip with, though she hated to malign anybody, making it rather boring gossip.

  
  


Jane took up a fair amount of his time actually. She was turning into a friend- dare he say a good friend. There was so much about her he just didn't understand, and he suspected the same was true in return. Still, he felt drawn to her, wanted to spend time with her.

  
  


He wanted to talk to Harry about her- get pointers on how to talk to girls, how to act. Jay was useless- the older boy was impossible to have a serious conversation with. Any attempts were brushed off, or countered with a head-lock.

  
  


Carlos noted that while Jay and Evie were settling in as though they'd been born in Auradon, somebody else was struggling just like he was. Well, maybe her situation was a bit different to his own, but anyway. Mal was having trouble adjusting to life off the Isle, like Carlos was. So he found that he didn't mind when she would explode into his room, interrupting whatever alone time he managed to find from his roommate, so she could rant and rave.

  
  


They spent more time one-on-one than ever before, and Carlos grew to understand Mal on a completely new level. He discovered things about her he'd never have dreamed of before; she became less of a leader to be obeyed and feared and more a friend.

  
  


They would spend afternoons together, watching movies, playing video games, gossiping and even quietly working on their own projects and just enjoying the companionable silence. They hid from the paparazzi and classmates alike- even avoiding Evie, Jay and Ben at times.

  
  


Together, they could be themselves. Mal had found somebody she could vent to, who didn't judge her for missing the Isle. In return, she listened to Carlos when he needed to vent, though he never fully explained to her what or rather who he missed.

  
  


Even after all the time that had passed, even after they had grown so close, Carlos just couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. It broke every rule they had, and there was no way to know that Harry didn't hate his very guts now. That he wouldn't impale him on his hook as soon as look at him.

  
  


The very idea made his chest hurt, so he tried not to think about it often.

  
  


The pressure of being with Ben was obviously getting worse for Mal. She was trying so hard to be what everybody wanted... Carlos couldn't understand why. Ben had wanted her when she was an Isle girl, so that should be enough for everybody else. But Mal assured him he didn't know what he was talking about and that she had to act the perfect pink princess to fit in here.

  
  


He hadn't realised she cared about fitting in, but whatever.

  
  


On this particular afternoon Jay was out at practice and Carlos was sitting on his bed, typing up a report on 'his' laptop when Mal stormed into the room. The older girl almost radiated magic, eyes struggling to contain it all.

  
  


He watched her pace and vent, trying to be supportive without putting his foot in his mouth.

  
  


He wasn't that great at it.

  
  


So he went for distraction. Nobody had been able to help him with his Jane problem, so he'd commissioned Mal to make a truth potion for him. He'd be forced to tell Jane how he felt, rather than changing his mind at the last minute as he constantly did.

  
  


Everything went balls-up when the mutt (that he loved dearly) stole it from his hand, eating the damn candy before either teen could react. Mal left the room in a state of shock, and to be honest Carlos could hardly blame her. A talking dog was truly fucked up and she had enough to deal with- he'd try and field this one on his own.

  
  


So now he had a new problem, and no truth potion to help his old one. Wonderful.

  
  


~~~****~~~~

  
  


Mal had returned to the Isle. Evie was all cut up about it, blaming herself for not noticing how unhappy she'd been- Ben too. Evie dealt with it the Isle way- channeling all her emotions into the task at hand, getting everybody kitted out in Isle gear and setting a plan into action.

  
  


Ben seemed to deal with it the Auradon way- talking about his feelings. It kinda set Carlos on edge and if the way Jay kept trying to change the subject said anything, it was off-putting for him too. Isle kids just didn't do feelings, let alone _out loud-_ and Ben was even lamenting over what he should have done better. Never admit to mistakes!

  
  


All decked out in his new Isle gear (all the outfits he'd had from his former life were too small for him now, having gained a bit of muscle and a few inches of height. Regular meals were doing good things for his body, at least.) Carlos felt a satisfaction sink into his sink. The leather, the tail.. It felt like home. He was comfortable, in a way he never really was in his new clothes. The gloves felt like old friends and even though everything was of a much better quality than what he'd grown up in, it was by far closer to what he knew.

  
  


He wondered why Evie had these outfits ready for them, before dismissing the thought. Everybody was adjusting in their own ways. If making Isle outfits was helping Evie, he wasn't complaining. He was probably going to ask for more.

  
  


The outfit even gave him a bit of a confidence boost, helping to hide his nerves over what was happening. Which was good, as Jay was freakishly observant and would no doubt be able to tell his nerves were more than worry about seeing his mother. The limo made quick work of the trip, but it wouldn't take long for Jay to sniff out anything amiss.

  
  


They were going to the Isle.

  
  


Sure, it was to get Mal and bring her back. But Carlos had his own agenda. He was visiting Harry, come hell or high water.

  
  


He kinda expected hell, to be honest. There was no way the pirate would welcome him with open arms. But maybe, just maybe, he could sneak him back with them?

  
  


At the very least, he wanted to see him. Explain why he had left without warning, why he'd seemingly abandoned the other boy. No matter how long it'd been- how likely Harry was to just run him through with his sword at first sight- he had to try.

  
  


He was going to see Harry.

  
  


~~~~~****~~~~~

  
  


Ben was an absolute mess at blending in on the Isle, though Carlos had seen that coming a mile away. Nothing could prepare somebody for this place until they experienced it for themselves.

  
  


So as much as he wanted to split off from the group and hunt down his pirate, he stuck with them to deliver the King to his beloved. The King was a walking target, all shiny and good despite the leather he was decked out in. They managed to get him to tone it down some, pulling out his inner ratbag enough to be getting on with.

  
  


That didn't mean there wasn't a decent amount of relief to eventually reach the hideout, and send Ben up to face Mal. Carlos snorted at that, like one conversation was going to change her mind- she'd been going crazy in Auradon, and if coming back to this hellhole to escape it didn't show that, nothing would. One little apology wasn't going to change her mind.

  
  


They had seen Gil though, which was just fate laughing at Carlos once again. No doubt the other boy was informing Uma of their presence already- and with Carlos' luck, Harry would be right there listening.

  
  


Once again finding out from others, not Carlos himself. He couldn't catch a fucking break, honestly.

  
  


Once Ben was safely up the stairs, Carlos turned to Jay and Evie. He needed to get away and obviously his plan of slipping away unnoticed wasn't going to happen. Time was now against him- he had however long Mal and Ben would take to talk before hey were back in that limo and heading off. He wouldn't get another chance to breach the barrier, this was it.

  
  


So fuck being sneaky, fuck keeping it quiet. He was on a mission, and he wouldn't be letting Harry down. Not again.

  
  


“Hey, I've got something I need to do. I'll met you back at the limo- don't leave without me.”

  
  


He turned on his heel, jogging down the road as he ignored Jay's spluttering and Evie's questions. He wasn't going to explain, he didn't have time and it just wasn't even possible at this point.

  
  


He had to find Harry.

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

Carlos sat in the limo, head in his hands as though perhaps that would stop it from spinning.

Why did fate love to screw him over? Seriously, he was beginning to believe there truly was a higher power watching over them- and fucking him over for their own perverse pleasure. He'd always suspected it, but after the complete and utter balls up that had been the last few days...

He was pretty sure he was destined to be kicked when he was down, no matter what. Life just kept the hits coming.

Carlos mentally reviewed the night before, trying to dissect when it had all gone wrong- what he could have done differently to prevent the absolute _clusterfuck_ his life was now.

They'd gone to the Isle to 'save' Mal. He'd helped deliver Ben to her door, then split off in search of Harry.

Perhaps if he'd left earlier, instead of escorting Ben. Maybe if he'd seen Harry before Gil had seen them...

~~~***~~~

_A day earlier_

_~~~***~~~_

Carlos hurried down the road, shoulders slumped and hands in pockets. He wasn't looking for trouble, but knew he looked an easy mark. Too clean, too fresh- his clothes were brand new for fucks sake. And he was alone, easy pickings. So he kept moving, attempting to keep an eye on everything and everybody around him.

He made his way towards the pirate's territory along the docks, not sure where exactly to look but figuring the chip shop was a decent enough starting place. He still didn't know what to say or what to expect, but to be honest..

The small knife in his boot wasn't for decoration.

He knew Ben and Evie were unarmed, both of them still living in that fairy-tale ideal where nobody hurt others for fun. Carlos and Jay on the other hand, knew the depravity of the Isle well and came prepared for it. That was probably why Jay had let him splinter off from them without giving chase- he knew Carlos was armed and could defend himself.

He definitely wouldn't suspect the young de Vil would be heading straight to the heart of pirate territory- the second least safe place for him on the Isle. Beat out for top position only by his mother's house, of course. Nothing could ever be worse than the punishment she'd dole out should her clawed hands ever land on him again. He shuddered at the thought. At least Hell House was in the opposite direction of where he was currently heading.

Upon reaching the shop, Carlos knew entering was a bad idea. He'd stick out like a sore thumb, and no pirate worth their salt was going to let one of Mal's gang walk back out unharmed. His every fiber screamed at him what a bad idea it was. So he went in through the back, jiggling the lock the way he'd seen Harry do before to gain entrance.

The kitchen was empty for the moment- though with the amount of noise he could hear drifting in from the main room, it wouldn't be long before somebody came in. He just needed to work out if Harry was here or not.

So that explained why, when Uma entered the kitchen muttering under her breath- she found him crouched under the serving window, attempting to peek over it enough to gain a visual of the main room.

Needless to say, things didn't go so well for him from there.

Uma herself caught him and (with some assistance from Jonas) had the younger boy restrained and at her mercy within minutes.

He didn't even get to pull his knife, which he was fairly pissed about. Auradon had made him slow, obviously. He was going soft and that thought terrified him. What if it had been his mother that caught him? At least Uma hadn't killed him. Yet, at least.

He knew from Harry's comments that she was smart. Uma was a planner- she knew how to set traps and be patient. So he assumed she'd make him some sort of bait, and the best bait was live bait- everybody knew that.

The really shitty part was that, for all of this- Harry hadn't even been in the shop. He couldn't ask where the pirate was (that would be highly suspect) but he definitely hadn't been there. So it'd been a pointless, doomed trip anyway.

He was hustled off to the ship, Jonas dragging him along as Uma told him to hurry. Apparently, she was expecting company, Carlos noted. He must be interfering with one of her plans. A momentary wash of guilt flooded him before he remembered they had him captive. That evaporated any guilt.

The ship was how he'd always imagined it to be, having heard it described in great detail from Harry. His gaze took in as much as he could, being marched along as he was. To his left was the broken rail from a training mishap between Harry and Jonas, and the hole was in the galley door from Gil and Harry fighting in the hall, just as described. Most of his stories had been about fighting, come to think of it.

He was shoved into the very bowels of the ship, the makeshift cell he'd heard of before. It was just as dark and musty as expected. What was unexpected, was the other occupant.

“Ben!”

Carlos fell to his knees, having frozen in shock at the sight of the King. Jonas pushed him in far enough to shut the door behind the boy, locking it with a loud clang.

None of that processed however, as Carlos' eyes scanned the teenage King. He was tied up at wrist and ankle, but it didn't look too tight. He didn't see any blood, not even any bruises. Had the other boy even tried to fight?

“Carlos! What are you doing here?”

Shock was written across the King's face. Carlos resolved to play cards with him in the future- he'd be an easy mark, and a rich one at that.

Shuffling forwards awkwardly (his own hands were tied behind his back and his ankles loosely bound as well, with just enough slack to walk), Carlos settled down next to Ben on the cold floor.

“Well, I got captured by pirates. You?”

“Uh, yeah, the same. Mal didn't want to talk to me, so I left and while Evie was trying to talk to her, I just went a little down the alley. I was just trying to think, clear my head. But then somebody was grabbing me, and they had weapons.”

Carlos snickered. He'd seen Ben with a sword- hell, they'd faced off in sword fighting practice a few times when Jay wanted to see how the Auradon boys reacted to Carlos' Isle style of fighting, and his natural speed. Ben was decent with a sword, if a bit stiff and formal. He wagered that should the guy let loose, he could hold his own in a fight. And his tackles on the tourney field- there was no way they could've overpowered him without Ben's allowing them to (not without Ben being a lot more banged up than he appeared). And knowing the King, Carlos had no doubt that was exactly what had happened. Ben didn't want to hurt anybody, so had allowed them to kidnap him.

Self sacrificing idiot.

“So you just let them take you? Ben, hell, do you even understand the position you just put Mal in? You've given the pirates the upper hand- and I doubt any of the old gang's going to step up to back her.”

In fact, he was pretty sure he'd seen some of their old crew running with the pirates. He wasn't surprised. If you weren't the strongest, you aligned yourself with the strongest- it was the only way to survive. Without Mal around, Uma would've been running unchallenged as Queen of the Isle.

“Carlos, I didn't really have a choice. He had a hook to my throat.”

Everything in Carlos seized.

“Ben, who took you?”

The older boy slanted his eyes at him, obviously wondering why it mattered.

“There were two guys- pirates? The one with the Hook, and other one with the yellow gloves. He said his name was Gil, and the first-”

“Harry. Harry Hook.” He interrupted, uncaring that it was rude. Harry had been there, had taken Ben. That meant he must be here, must've been grabbing Ben as Carlos was in the chip shop looking for him. Who cared if his voice had been a bit high pitched and breathless as he spoke the name he hadn't dared in months?

Harry was alive. He was okay. He was still a pirate, still with Uma and Gil. He was alive.

Carlos could've wept with joy.

“How- How did he look?”

“Terrifying. He kept laughing, and talking about making me walk the plank or hooking me. He was like... Unhinged.”

Carlos grinned, unable to help it. “Yeah, that sounds like him.” To others, at least. Carlos had known a different side of the boy. “But did he look... well?”

Ben's eyes suddenly glinted as he studied the younger boy. “Carlos, would Harry happen to be the reason you've been so keen about getting other kids off of the Isle?”

The younger teen choked on his own spit. Fuck.

“Ben, that is not knowledge you should be sharing, okay? A lot of people could get hurt if you tell the wrong person.”

Ben smiled smugly (and even that looked handsome and wholesome on the royal lad). “I knew it. It's okay Carlos, I don't mind.”

Carlos just stared at the King, waiting until they had eye contact.

“It's not _you_ I'm worried about. That knowledge could be the end of Mal. And Uma. It could destroy two gangs and every kid in them. I mean it Ben, _nobody_ can know. As far as you are aware, he's a cold-hearted lunatic who scares the shit out of you. Understood?”

Ben swallowed, seeing the intensity in the younger boys face. “Yeah, I get it. It's really that serious?”

Carlos snorted. “Hierarchy here is very tenuous. One shift in power and it could all go tumbling down. Fraternizing between gangs, it's unheard of. And Mal is in a delicate place right now- she always ruled the Isle, but she abandoned it. Her old gang has mostly folded into Uma's, leaving her weaker than before and Uma stronger than ever. But if Mal can swing it right, it'll shift to her favor and all fall into place. If anything were to shake her- like a close friend betraying her- it could cost her all of it. She'd never recover if Uma took her down.”

Ben nodded, familiar with the games of politics if not the particular details of _island_ politics. “So that's why you would never give me his name. I always thought you were just embarrassed about being gay.”

Carlos gaped at the King. What the-

“Where did you get _that_ idea?”

Ben's eyebrows crunched together in confusion.

“Are you not? I'm sorry! I just assumed, since you were obviously pining for someone from the island and wouldn't say who. And you've not shown any interest in any of the girls... I figured you had a boyfriend here and didn't want to say anything because nobody is really openly gay back home, so you might've felt like you couldn't say anything-”

“Ben. Ben, it's okay. Don't worry. But it's not like that- honestly. We don't really care about the gay thing here, so it wouldn't have even occurred to me to hide it there. But what about Jane?”

Ben shrugged, avoiding Carlos' gaze. “I mean, you don't look at her like.. well, how I look at Mal. I thought you were just trying to fit in, not that you actually like her. The look you get when you'd think about the person you were partitioning for... I just assumed it was for someone you love. And when you think about Jane, it's a different look. Like, when you think about Evie.”

Fuck. Carlos guessed he didn't need that truth potion after all. Ben had just hand-fed him the answers. He didn't want Jane, that was the reason he couldn't bring himself to ask her out or tell her how he felt. He just liked her as a friend, nothing more. He was pretty sure she was into him, and must've just been reacting to those cues. Fuck.

And it wasn't like he didn't think about Harry- a lot. It wouldn't be a stretch to say he was into him- he was definitely the person Carlos had trusted most in his life, and enjoyed his company more than any other. And he was hot as fuck to boot.

So it wouldn't be a stretch to think he was into the pirate, after all.

Fuck.

That made the situation so much worse.

~~***~~~

Carlos had withdrawn into his own thoughts, leaning against Ben to share body heat but completely immersed in his own head.

To be fair, he probably should have seen this coming. He'd always thought Harry was ridiculously attractive, and it wasn't like he'd hated cuddling with the guy.

Oh God, they'd cuddled. And held hands. By Auradon standards, they'd been dating. By Isle standards... Hell, the Isle had no name for what they'd been doing. Treason?

No wonder he'd been so torn up over leaving Harry behind. Now it made sense, all the feelings he'd been having. Why he'd been so sad and missed Harry so much (more than his cousin Diego, who was _blood)._ He liked Harry.

But that didn't change the current situation. He was being held hostage, alongside Ben (the freaking _King of Auradon)_ stuck in the middle of what amounted to a turf war. On an Isle Ben never should've set foot on. He was too good for this place, it would only poison him. What had they been thinking?

Harry was most likely on this boat, though Carlos had not seen him. He definitely knew Carlos was back, so that would be another strike against the young de Vil boy. Uma was plotting something, though Carlos could only guess what. It didn't take a genius to assume though, that she wanted what they all wanted here – freedom.

Freedom for the King and Carlos? Or freedom for one of them?

He had to face the possibility that he wasn't getting off of this ship for a very long time. That was fine- he'd survived Cruella, he could survive whatever Uma threw at him. Though, if Harry got in on it, he had a feeling that would hurt. Badly.

The sound of footsteps beyond their 'cell' door shook Carlos into a more alert state, not that he so much as twitched a muscle. He needed to pull himself together, find a solution. Act and react to the present, worry about what's done once it's done. And for the love of all that is unholy, never let your guard down. Some of the hardest rules to learn, though every Isle kid did- eventually- learn them.

~~~~****~~~~

Time marched on- it would've been impossible to judge if not for Ben's wristwatch. An hour, and then two. As the third was almost over, the noise of tumbling locks came from their door.

Fuck, he hadn't even tried to pick the door locks. He really had lost his touch.

The wooden door creaked open slowly, assisted by one leather clad hand.

A single glance at the shadowed figure beyond froze Carlos' breath, his heart stuttering before launching into rapid-fire.

Harry.

Chains rattled as he stomped into the room, familiar boots entering Carlos' field of vision. A tray of fish and chips (in name, if not actual origin or taste) landed on the ground in front of them.

“Food's up, your royal Kingliness.”

His tone was pure malice, a slither away from red hot anger. Carlos had never heard it before. He was used to a soft, gentle tone- even a happy cheerful one. Never this, never pure anger.

Slowly, not wanting to but knowing he had to, Carlos lifted his gaze to meet Harry's.

The pirate had grown taller in his absence, his shoulders that much broader and his arms even more toned than he remembered. His dress code seemed about the same- three quarter black pants with a white singlet (more holes than singlet at this point), belts wherever he pleased and red leather coat to top it off. Carlos knew he loved the swish from the coat when he turned, 'driving fear into the hearts of peasants everywhere' he used to say.

His eyes were still a light blue, though they were pinched in anger and almost a stormy grey by the time Calos' own met them.

“Hey Harry.”

The pirate sneered, and all Carlos saw was the hurt in his eyes- and the jawline. Oh my, he'd forgotten how distracting the other boys features were.

“'Ello _Pup,_ didn't think we'd be seein' the likes of you around here again.”

Carlos flinched, Harry hadn't called him Pup in so long, not with such hate behind it. That one had force behind it, Harry wanted it to hurt.

“Harry, you gotta know, I never had the chance-”

“I don't wanna hear anything you got to say, Mutt. Uma said I can hook ye tomorrow, if Mal doesn't do as told. So I'm gunna go polish me hook, all nice and shiny for ye. As for you, ye can stay here and rot til then. Seems about yer turn.”

Carlos sank into himself, arms wrapping around his legs as best they could whilst tied at the wrist still. He deserved that. He deserved that and more, and he knew it. He'd left Harry here on the Isle to rot, it was only fair-

“Hold on!”

Harry had been half way to the door when Ben yelled out, voice earnest and pleading. The pirate paused, before spinning around and advancing to loom over the King.

“Yes, yer highness? Dinner not good enough fer ye? Well, me humblest apologies, but it's the best I can come up with this side of the barrier. And if that ain't good enough for ye-”

“No, I mean. It's fine. Truly, I'm not complaining about the food.” Carlos internally rolled his eyes. God forbid Ben offend anybody.

“You should give Carlos a chance to talk. I'm sure you're upset, and if it helps I'll move to the corner and cover my ears, but he deserves to explain himself.”

“Now, why on earth would I let a traitor like him say anything to me?”

Ben visibly straightened his back, becoming the visage of the King he was. “Because you'll regret it, for the rest of your life, if you don't.”

Carlos cringed. That had sounded like a threat. And if there was one thing he knew to be true about Harry Hook, it was that he never responded well to threats.

As evidenced by the snarl, Harry visibly restraining himself from attacking- Carlos wasn't entirely certain which one of them was the target. “There's plenty o' things I regret, and I can tell you now, that ain't gunna be one of them! Ever knowing such a disgusting waste of space as yer _friend_ there. That's the biggest mistake I ever made.”

Shaking with anger and what Carlos could only assume was bloodlust, Hook swept from the room and kicked the door shut behind himself. It clanged loudly, though not loud enough to drown out Harry's words in Carlos' head repeating over and over.

He was Harry's biggest mistake, his greatest regret. Harry wished he'd never known him.

Harry hated him.


	9. Chapter 9

It was a long, long night. Ben was probably the best- and also the very worst- person to be held captive with. The young king seemed to find it all to be an adventure, finding the positive in everything.

The food was nasty? What an experience! That smell- a mixture of salt water, rotting food and mold? Unique! How cold it was, how disgusting, how uncomfortable- Ben found the sunny side to it all. Which was great, Carlos wouldn't want to be stuck with somebody who complained the entire time. It did get on his nerves, though; the continuous bright-side demeanor.

Carlos wasn't exactly in the right mood to deal with somebody so happy. His entire world felt as though it had shattered- he couldn't even find pieces to grasp at.

He sat there, ass numb and trussed up like a pig to slaughter, as he had been for hours. He felt none of it, barely even processed whatever Ben was saying to him.

Harry hated him.

Who was he, what was he, without Harry?

Sure, he'd been without him for a while now, but he'd been living for the moment they were reunited. Living in the hope of having Harry back, having his life returned to normal.

Now, it seemed pretty far-fetched. A child's dream, unrealistic and immature.

What had he expected? Harry to move to Auradon, leave his pirate crew and family behind? Play happily-ever-after with Carlos?

Carlos knew he would never be enough for the pirate. He'd always known that. But there'd also been the little seed of hope, deep down in his gut, that he'd been watering and fostering for months. Hope that Harry would forgive him, that they could find a new normal.

And now it was all confirmed. He was nothing, a waste of space. He didn't deserve to even breathe the same air as Harry, wasn't worth the shit caking the bottom of his shoes. Happily ever afters weren’t for Carlos, he wasn’t good enough, didn’t deserve one.

Carlos didn't realise he'd crumpled over, curled up as best he could, until he felt Ben's hands running down his back in an attempt to comfort. The older boy was soothing as best he could, muttering useless platitudes and other nonsense.

They spent the night like that, and in the pitch-black darkness, Carlos may have shed a tear or two. Ben didn't mention it.

~~~***~~~

By morning, Carlos had pulled himself together. Kind of.

He had a plan- get Ben off the Isle.

The King needed to be rescued, by Mal or not it didn't matter, but the boy could not remain in the clutches of the pirates. He needed to return to Auradon, so that was Carlos' new mission.

He planned, he revised and made countless other plans, all strategies and options for any scenario he could come up with. Not knowing anything about the deal Uma had struck with Mal made it difficult, though he pulled on his knowledge of the two girls.

There would likely be a large confrontation- both girls needed this to be public, so the victor could go undisputed. Uma had the leverage, so it was likely to be on pirate territory- the boat or the docks, certainly. She wouldn't be so stupid as to pass over homeground advantage.

Mal would do almost anything to get the king back- which made it hard to predict her actions. She'd changed from the girl she was on the Isle, meaning her actions and reactions were almost impossible to judge now. Where was her line? What lengths would she go to, what would she do to get Ben back?

And so Carlos plotted.

He would make sure Ben got off this island, no matter what. No matter who won, no matter what happened to Carlos himself- Ben was going home. He was a good king, he needed a chance to really rule.

~~~~***~~~

Breakfast was delivered by Gil, who was so excited to see Carlos and King Ben that he barely stopped with the questions to allow any answers. That suited Carlos just fine, he wasn't in the mood for chatting. Gil had never personally harmed him, he was actually a decent guy. Too good for his own good, most said.

Once the boy was gone, Carlos made sure to point that out to Ben. Another Isle kid who really didn't deserve to be stuck with the scum of the earth, simply because he was born here.

It was ten o'clock when the door clanged open once again, and Carlos froze mid-sentence when he saw Harry stride in.

His eyeliner was extreme, the darkest he'd ever seen it. The manic grin was in full-force, almost dazzling in its brilliance. Carlos gulped. He'd not felt so scared of Harry since... Since he first repaired that hook.

Memories flooded the younger boy, a sheen coating his eyes before he forcefully blinked it away. That was then, this is now. No point dwelling on the past.

Harry was looming over Ben, not saying a word. Just staring, in the way that unnerved even the hardest of criminals. Ben smiled up at him, offering a hand to shake as best he could.

Carlos snorted to himself. Ben really would be eaten alive here, if left to his own devices.

“What's the plan, Harry?”

Better to deflect the pirates attention, he figured, than to let Harry realise Ben wasn't afraid. He was pretty sure that wouldn't go down so well, even though it was due to the king being too  _ stupid _ to realise he should be scared of the pirate.

“Well,  _ pup, _ Uma wants the King here up on deck. And if Mally don't deliver on time, I get to play.”

The cold, hard tone to his voice sent shivers down Carlos' spine. It was downright terrifying- and Ben was still smiling, though it seemed slightly forced now. God, that boy could play nice with the devil if he had to. It was kind of scary, when Carlos thought about it.

Maybe Ben's poker face wasn't as shit as he suspected. Maybe this smile- this harmless cheerful and polite face- was a facade. He'd never considered that Auradon kids would need it, but it was looking likely that Ben had just that. Putting that thought to the side for later perusal, Carlos focused back on Harry.

He'd spent a fair chunk of the morning considering how to talk to him, what to say, if given the chance.

“What're the chances you'd let Ben go, keep me instead?”

He ignored Ben's protests, watching Harry's eyes instead. It was always his eyes that said the most, and he was hoping he could still read them.

Surprise, in the way they widened, followed by anger (which was obvious, he didn't need to be staring to see that one), and a slight amount of pain. Hurt.

He was hurting Harry. The last thing he'd ever wanted.

“Slim to fuck all, I'd say. Uma's never gunna let go of the best chance we've ever had at getting off this rock- you know that.”

Carlos nodded, keeping his eyes on Harry's. The pirate, never one to be still (not outside of their time in the treehouse, at least) was rocking back and forward on his feet, eyes darting from one prisoner to the next. He looked wired, ready for action.

He also looked really, really good, Carlos noticed. His red jacket had lost it's sleeves, and his white shirt had so many holes they now looked like patterns - not the little problems that came with owning a sharp hook. (It was true, Carlos had seen the older boy rip more than one shirt by accident. He must've decided to embrace the look, which made a sort of sense.)

“Yeah, that's true enough. Harry- do what you've got to. But do it to me. Leave Ben out of it. He's not- He didn't grow up here, he doesn't deserve it.”

The pirate froze for a moment before turning that intense gaze fully onto the younger boy.

“Ye'd offer yerself on a platter, for.. That? Really? You have changed.”

Ben said something, but both Isle boys ignored him. They were caught up in each other, completely absorbed in their own world. Ben wasn’t even a blip on their radar.

“Yeah, I've changed. I'm better off Harry... She can't get me there. But I didn't know I was going- she never told me! Harry, listen to me, I never meant to leave without telling you!”

All his plans to leave the past in the past, and follow Harry’s lead on this flew out the window ( along with his dignity) as he pleaded for the older teen to understand.

Harry shook his head, seemingly shaking himself out of his Carlos induced daze, scoffed and turned to the King.

“Come on then, yer highness, time to go.”

He completely ignored the younger boy, dragging Ben out of the 'cell' and slamming the door shut behind them.

Carlos fell silent as he slumped against the cold wall. He'd failed- Harry wasn't listening to him ever again. Ben was out there with the pirates doing God-knows-what while he was stuck here, like a dog in it's kennel.

Well fuck that.

He no longer had any sense of time, Ben’s watch having gone with him, but it felt like hours that he spent picking the lock on the door. Not because it was that hard, but he had no tools and his hands were still tied. So his teeth were clenched around a large splinter he had pulled from one of the wooden floor-planks, his fingers clutching another.

Eventually, after a lot of time and a lot of breaks (his jaw was not made for this), he heard the tumblers fall into place.

Freedom.

Now he needed to work out which plan he was operating on. Without knowing Ben's fate, he couldn't say for certain- but most of his plans that involved them being seperated had a few things in common.

He needed to find Ben, he needed to arm himself, and he definitely could not get himself caught again. (He also needed to make sure nobody knew he was free, as he figured Uma was keeping him as backup. If she lost Ben it wasn't that bad, because she still had Carlos. If he showed his hand too soon, she might get desperate and that could end badly for Ben.)

And that's how Carlos came to realise he was still rather talented at sneaking around and remaining undetected. Even tied up as he was, the young boy was making good time at climbing up the levels of the ship. A lifetime of hiding from Cruella was finally paying off, he mused to himself.

Ducking and dodging pirates as he made his way up- (the only way off of the ship, so obviously that was where he was headed) he was almost having fun. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins as it only did in these situations, something he had yet to experience in Auradon. At one point, he was almost to the last staircase (he could even see the daylight at the top) when somebody came hurrying down it. Carlos grabbed the nearest door handle, ducking into the room and shutting the door as quietly as he could behind himself.

When no shouts or thudding boots sounded from behind the door, he sighed in relief. He hadn't been seen, thank god. Carlos hadn't made it this far to screw up now. He reached for the handle, mentally calculating the time it would've taken the pirate to clear the hall (and deciding it was safe to check), when something landed heavily on his shoulder.

He yelped, in a higher pitch than he would've prefered. As soon as Carlos identified the object on his shoulder to be a hand, his leg was kicking backwards- aiming for the family jewels.

Only, he forgot that he hadn't found anything sharp enough to remove the bindings from his ankles, and even though they were loose enough to shuffle along with, they certainly didn't have enough give to be kicking. And so it was that he face-planted into the door.

Great.

The startled laugh from behind just made Carlos sink further into the wooden door.

Of course. Of course the one person to catch him, to see him look like an absolute moron, had to be Harry. Why wouldn't it be?

“Well, I didn't expect to be seeing you in me room.”

Carlos slowly turned around, not wanting to see the truth of it. But there it was- he had managed to pick Harry's room to duck into, out of all the possible doors he'd picked this one.

Fuck you fate.

The room was simple, a bed (unmade, of course) and a chest of drawers the only furniture. Clothes were in random piles across the floor, and there were a handful of items on top of the drawers. A few Carlos recognised, like the alarm clock he'd repaired and given to the pirate.

“Uh, hi, Harry. Fancy seeing you here?”

The older boy snarled, pulling away sharply to pace beside his bed.

“What're ye doing,  _ pup _ ? I can't just let you escape, you know that! Did you really think you'd get offa the ship without us noticing?”

Carlos shook his head, sliding down the door to sit. He felt better with his arms around his knees, and he knew Harry would feel better if he wasn't an obvious flight risk.

“Just wanted to make sure Ben makes it off. Didn't think I'd be so lucky, of course.”

Harry snorted, stopping his pacing to stare down at his once friend.

“Why're ye so obsessed with that guy, huh? Offering yerself in his place, begging for his sake- you in love with 'im or something?”

The calm tone was almost worse than the angry one, Carlos noted.

“Not like that, no. But he got us out of here, and he's working on getting more of you out. A lot of people are against it, but he's been so good to us, he's a good guy. And things will never change if he doesn't change them... So I want to make sure he's there to do it, to get all the kids out of here. Even if it is taking forever.”

“So yer in love with 'im.”

Carlos sighed. He wasn't saying what he needed to, all his preplanned explanations had fled his grasp the moment he saw Harry again. It'd always been like that- the pirate froze his brain. Probably because he was in love with him, as Ben had pointed out.

“There's only one guy I love in Auradon, and he's called Dude. Furry, four legs, loves to play fetch.”

Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise. “A dog? You?”

Carlos snickered. “I know, it's weird, right? But he's awesome. He's honestly the only reason I've survived over there.”

“Survived? Yer sitting pretty over there, wanting fer nothin'. What’s there to survive?”

This time Carlos snorted out loud. “Oh God, you've got no idea. They expect us to be  _ good _ over there. Half of them are trying so hard to be nice to us- ridiculously easy marks, leaving themselves open on  _ all _ fronts, while the other half are watching our every move, waiting for us to fuck up so they can send us back.”

Harry snorted. “Can't be that bad.”

Carlos gave a sad grin. “There's been more than a few days when I've been more than halfway here, with some badly thought-out plan like Mal's to come back.”

Harry's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He'd ceased the pacing as they spoke, leaning against the wall now. “But why would ye come back? Ye've got it all over there, and here... Well, ye've got yer Mum.”

Carlos hummed his agreement, biting his bottom lip before deciding  _ fuck it. _ He may never get this chance again.

“Yeah, she's here. But so are you.”

He stared defiantly into Harry's eyes, trying to project the truth in his statement.

_ I missed you. You were worth coming back for. I love you. _

So many things for four little words to say, he wondered how many were lost in translation.

“Me? Ye dropped me first chance ye got, why the hell would ye even think twice about little ol' me?”

Carlos cringed at the pain he could hear in Harry's voice, the uncertainty and doubt. He'd known he hurt Harry when he left, but not this much.

“I didn't drop you Harry- not by choice. Mum was told I was going a week before we went, but she only told me right before chucking me into that limo. I had no idea. I would've told you about it if I'd known, you know that. I was fucking lost without you there, you've no idea. I share a room with Jay, and all my time is spent in class, or with him and the girls. I don't have my treehouse, or my inventions, or  _ you _ .”

Harry sank to the floor, his knees up with his arms draped over them, hair flopped forward to hide his eyes. He was basically a mirror image of Carlos himself. “You didn't know?”

“God no. I would've told you, made a plan to get you to come with. Could've snuck you in my bag or something.”

Harry snorted, which Carlos was taking as a good sign. “God, you really have changed. Never woulda said that, before.”

The young De Vil shrugged one shoulder. “They're really big on talking and emotions and shit over there. Guess it's rubbing off.”

“Na, it's not that. Yer more... Bold. Confident.”

“Oh, well, I guess that's because I no longer live with a psychotic bitch, hiding around every corner to try and hurt me.”

Harry's hands clenched, the leather of his gloves creaking softly.

“I always wanted you away from her. Guess you didn't need me for that after all.”

That made Carlos remember whispered plans made late at night, about running away from their parents. Sometimes, the plans revolved more around getting rid of their parents, particularly Cruella. Still, he couldn't contain the snort at Harry's words.

“You never realised? Harry, without you I would've killed myself ages ago. I certainly wouldn't have made it to Auradon.”

The pirate's head came up suddenly, his gaze sharp as he studied the other boy. His voice was deadly soft.

“What did you just say?”

Carlos shrugged, brushing it off. “It's not like I did anything, that's what I'm saying. Without you, my life was absolute shit. So don't marginalize it, or deny it.”

Harry snorted that time. “If I meant so much to ye, why'd ye leave me here to rot?”

As Carlos went to deny that, to explain the efforts he'd made and what Ben was doing to get more kids off the Isle, the door behind him shook as somebody hammered against it with their fist.

“Harry! Uma wants us!”

The pirate stared at his visitor. Carlos swallowed, despite his mouth suddenly being dry. This was it, time for Harry to call him out for escaping and send him back down to his cell.

“I'm coming, keep yer hat on!”

The pirate stood, stretching out his back before stalking forward to loom over Carlos.

“I guess our times up then... Kit.”

With that, he was opening the door and slipping through it before Carlos could even reply (or move out of the way, the door scooching him along the ground instead).

Harry had left him, alone in his room instead of ratting him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo I had intended to have this Isle adventure wrapped up last chapter, hence beginning it with the limo scene... and now I'm two chapters in and they're still on the boat. It's all Harry's fault. He hogs all of my attention, and Carlos'.  
> I also wanted to add how much all of the kudos and comments mean to me. It seems so little, but you wouldn't believe how motivating they are.


	10. Chapter 10

Carlos remained on the floor, unmoving in his shock. 

Harry had… Harry had called him ‘Kit’. 

He hadn’t imagined that, right? It wasn’t just another dream, his mind projecting what he so desperately wanted to be true? Harry had called him Kit. 

Warmth flooded the young man, his cheeks cherry red as he replayed it over and over in his mind. The accent. The infliction on the words, the way Harry had glanced at him as he said it. Had there been heat in that gaze, or was he imagining it? Bugger it, this was his day-dream, he could say there was a deeper meaning to it if he wanted.

He was Harry’s Kitten, once again. Nothing had ever made his chest so swollen, he’d be worried if he wasn’t so distracted at the moment. 

The sound of shouting and boot stomping from above shook Carlos from his Harry-induced daze.

Right, the pirates. Ben. Time to get out of here.

But first…. It couldn’t hurt. Nobody would know, he doubted Harry would notice. 

+++++++~~~~~~~~~~~++++++++++++

Carlos watched from the doorway, unnoticed in all the drama. The pirates were all on deck, rallied behind Uma. He counted at least four of Mal’s old crew, though Carlos seriously doubted that all of Uma’s crew were here. The rest would be scattered throughout the Isle, attending to their duties and maintaining pirate territory. Other enemies would jump at the chance to gain an advantage if Uma even glanced away; she couldn’t afford to focus all of her power on what was in front of her. That was a good way to get stabbed in the back. 

Of course, that was fairly unimportant at the moment. Carlos was only going to concern himself with the pirates that were between himself and Ben (who was currently being marched to the plank by a particularly manic looking Harry) and Mal who was due to arrive any moment now (from what he’d been overhearing).

Plans and ideas were skittering through his mind, being assessed and dismissed at a rapid fire. Nothing would work, there were too many elements, how could he take on the pirates tied up like this?!

Taking a deep breath, Carlos hung his head. What had happened to him since he’d left this Isle? He was a useless waste of space now. Wallowing in his misery instead of doing something about it. He might as well be one of those prissy damsels in distress- and that was not okay!

He couldn’t fight or flee when tied up? Fine. He’d get rid of the restraints. No more being a sissy little bitch. He was an Isle kid and he could save himself. And then he’d save Ben because, let’s face it, that boy would walk the plank before even thinking of saving himself. 

Back in Harry’s room, he found a blade under some clothes. He’d figured it’d be a safe bet- Harry having something sharp in his room. He’d bet on it being under the pillow, but had stood on this as he approached the bed. No matter, one sharp object was as good as the next. 

Carlos worked on freeing his wrists, holding the blade as best he could between his shoulder and chin. Just as he managed to free his wrists, the volume from above rose drastically before it went eerily silent. 

Mal must’ve arrived. 

Carlos swore and worked harder at his ankle ties. The moment they were gone, he was up and running for the door, blade in hand. Rusty or not (he chose to believe it was rust, and not any substance that may dry the color of rust, that coated the blade) a blade was a defense he sorely needed to face those pirates.

Back at his spot in the doorway, Carlos watched the proceedings as he waited for the right moment. Mal would have a plan, obviously. But Carlos needed to figure out what that plan was and how not to ruin it. One wrong move and they were all screwed. 

Uma and Mal were standing either side of the gangplank, comparing dick sizes. Well, maybe not, but they might as well be. It seemed Uma had demanded the fairy godmother’s wand for Ben’s safe return. It also seemed that Mal had actually brought the damned wand.

What was she thinking? She knew how dangerous that wand would be in the pirates’ hands. This was what had worried Carlos - Mal was a loose cannon at the moment, unpredictable and a complete liability when it came to reason and good sense. There was no way he could anticipate her actions when she was like this. 

The girls argued back and forward- Harry even left his spot by Ben to add his threats in. Carlos considered making a run for it to get Ben then, but he was on the wrong side of the ship for that. He’d have to get past every pirate to get to the King and in no reality did that work. Which sucked, as Harry had left Ben completely unguarded and the teen had just remained there, waiting patiently for his captor to return!

Carlos sighed to himself. Ben was not doing them any favors. He could’ve kicked up a fuss, created a distraction, but no. He was a good boy. Of course he was.

Ben did add his two cents- attempting to get the girls to stop the fight. Carlos could’ve told him not to bother, though he did notice that Harry (under all the bluster and manic glee) was looking at Ben in a new light. Maybe he saw a bit of what Carlos did in the boy, maybe he could understand what Carlos had been trying to say now. 

Ben might just be the only true hope of every Isle kid there was and he just couldn’t become another casualty in the turf war between two teenage girls. He was meant for much bigger things. 

Perhaps Harry did see that, as Carlos noticed that although he still dangled the King over the edge of the plank, he had a much tighter hold on the royal now. 

And then Uma demanded a demonstration of the wand. Carlos tensed, ready to sprint. Shit was about to go downhill, he’d need to make his way to Ben as quickly as he could, and get him out of here. Even if that meant overboard. Ben knew how to swim, right? Carlos could distract all the man-eating monsters as Ben swam to safety. It was a longshot, but also all he had managed to come up with. 

But then it didn’t go to shit. Mal cast a spell to make Dude talk, which connected a bunch of dots in Carlos’ brain.

The wand was a fake. There was no true risk to Auradon here as long as they could keep the sham going and get Ben away safely. Knowing that changed everything; Carlos could have wept in relief. But he didn’t, because crying in the middle of a fight was the most retarded thing he’d ever heard of.

As Harry escorted Ben to Uma’s side, Carlos slid onto the deck properly and stuck to the wall as he slowly crept towards the girls. He was sure things were about to get hectic and he wanted the best chance of making it to the others that he could get. If he was stuck facing these pirates on his own with one rusty blade, he stood no chance. 

As the pirates huddled together with the wand, Carlos made a run for it. They were all screaming in outrage as he leveled with them. He wasn’t going to make it across the gangplank before the pirates. But on the bright side, they seemed to be ignoring him completely in their haste to attack Mal and the others. 

Uma and Mal were blocking the one way off of the ship, so Carlos took a leaf out of the pirate’s book and used a rope to swing across. He landed with more grace than anticipated, rolling and popping up to land on his feet. Glancing around he dived for the swords Lonnie had left lying there- easy for him to grab, but also for the pirates. Not her best move. 

Carlos had a sword in hand just in time to battle the pirate that came after him- nobody he recognised and not that great a fighter. It gave him time to spot the red coat swing over his head and he knew before he even looked that Harry was on the level above him.

A glance up not only confirmed that, but also showed Harry and Jay in yet another of their infamous battles. Neither guy was the type to lose gracefully, so they always went all out in their fights and it normally got pretty horrific. Both carried scars from the other, their win rate was pretty much a tie.

Carlos kept an eye on that battle as he continued his own, remembering to also keep an eye on Ben who would never press an advantage if he didn’t have to. He saved him from Gil, sending Ben towards Evie who hopefully knew their exit strategy. 

Jay sent Harry into the water and Uma could feel victory slipping from them. So she made one last taunt as Mal ran from her, stopping quickly to pull Harry from the water when he called to her.

“Mal! You may have cheated your way out of this one, but I still have your mutt!”

Mal actually faltered at that which surprised Carlos, though he didn’t need to announce himself as Gil did that for him, to Uma’s ire.

As she raged about his escape, Jay and Lonnie set off down a tunnel that he assumed led to their exit strategy. Uma had caught up to Mal and Carlos was worried to see a pissed Harry taking on Ben. Until he saw how Harry wasn’t giving his all, letting Ben get through his defense in a way that could never be an accident. And letting him overpower the pirate? Ben was strong in his own way, but there was simply no way he had overthrown the pirate. Carlos smirked to himself.

Harry always had helped him, even in public, without anybody knowing. It seemed he hadn’t stopped. 

Another of those smoke bombs went off, and they all escaped down the tunnel which it turned out had led to this limo and a long ride home.

~~~~~~~+++++++++~~~~~~~

Carlos clenched his hair in fists as he tried to get a hold of his emotions.

Ben had looked haunted as he spoke of the people of the Isle- his resolve to help them was firmer, but it’d come at a price. Carlos tried to feel guilty about that, but couldn’t manage it. Whatever helped would be worth it. 

Ben knew. After all this time, all these years, somebody knew about his friendship with Harry.

Well, Ben actually thought that Carlos was in love with Harry which was more than Carlos could process at the moment. But now Ben knew, the secret was out. 

And he’d been right, Harry had hated him for leaving him, for leaving the Isle with no word. But he’d also called him ‘Kit’ and thrown the fight with Ben, so maybe he wasn’t that angry.

Either way, he was back on the Isle and Carlos was in this limo getting further away by the second. Once again, he was leaving Harry on the Isle. 

Carlos pulled at his hair in frustration as his emotions bounced around. Happy, sad, angry, scared, elated, hopeful, and right back to the beginning.

The entire ride his head was spinning, unable to stop and focus on one thing for more than a fleeting moment before the next thought popped up.

Arriving back in Auradon was a hazy dream; he went through the motions, got Mal to ‘girl talk’ with the group and then grabbed Dude for a walk. He desperately needed to clear his head.

Only the walk didn’t help. He found himself outside Ben’s door once again. This time not to plea for freedom for the Isle kids, but for the King to keep his secret.

If word got out that he and Harry Hook were friendly, let alone that he loved the older boy, there would be no hope left. Harry would be murdered by the pirates before he could be rescued from the Isle, and Carlos would probably be sent back to the Isle by the group here- Mal alone wouldn’t be happy, but Jay would be furious. 

Evie might be okay with it, which was really all he had to hang onto at the moment. He knocked on the door as he prayed for Ben’s silence. There was simply no way for this information to come out without causing harm to somebody.

Ben opened the door, not looking surprised to see Carlos on his threshold. He silently gestured the younger boy inside, shutting the door behind him before crossing the floor to his grand desk. Carlos watched the older teen remove his blue leather jacket and hang it over his chair before sitting, pulling off the beanie as he went. Almost immediately he lost any Isle edge he possibly had developed, and was back to being the clean-cut teen ruler of Auradon. 

Carlos couldn’t sit, so he paced back and forward in front of the desk.

"Ben. I know you’ve got a lot going on, what with being King and Mal and all. But please, I’m begging you-”

Ben gave a startled laugh, rising up to grab the younger boys shoulders to hole him still and make direct eye contact. 

“Carlos. Calm down. I won’t tell anybody, you have my word. Please don’t beg, it doesn’t suit you.”

The shorter boy huffed, dropping into the seat he had so far ignored.

“I don’t know that you truly get it, Ben. It’s not like here.”

The older boy grinned. “I think I get that a bit more now. It really is a different place.”

“Yeah, but even then I don’t think you have the full picture. If anybody on the Isle even suspects it, he’s dead. Dead Ben!”

“So it’s that serious? Okay. I see.”

They sat in silence for a while, both lost in their thoughts, before the king spoke once more. 

“Can I ask, what was your plan? I mean, you say you can’t let anybody know you love him, so you were going to get him here and then… what?”

Carlos groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “I don't know! At first, it was just a plan to let the adults take over and we could run away together. Then we decided to stay and defy our parents, which meant he wouldn’t be coming over, and so I had to try to get you to bring him over. From there, no plan! Never thought you actually would.”

Ben’s eyes glimmered as he looked at the younger boy. “I actually got permission to bring four more kids over. Not for another month, but I was going to tell you after cotillion tomorrow. I was going to ask you for that name so I can begin to organise it.”

Carlos’ heart stuttered. “You. You actually did it? You’re bringing more kids over?”

Ben grinned. “Yes Carlos, we’re bringing more kids over. And Harry can be one of them, if you’d like.” 

Stunned into muteness, Carlos merely nodded. Yes, yes he would like that. 

“I actually meant to ask the others too, see if there was anybody else who needs to be…. Extracted in more of a hurry than others.”

Carlos merely nodded, still too stunned to process.

Harry was coming to Auradon.

~~~~+++++++~~~~~~~

Cotillion was a fuck up of monumental proportions. Carlos attended solo, though every dance he shared was with Jane- who otherwise was manning the punch bowl. 

It was Uma showing up that ruined everything, really. Mal managed to deal with the situation, waking Ben from the love spell and scaring Uma into a retreat. That being said, it had put a damper on the event. 

And, as he found out the next day, a spanner in the works for getting Harry off of the Isle. 

Ben had summoned Carlos to his office, where he was politely offered a seat and a drink before having all of his hopes and dreams shattered. 

Uma escaping had scared the Auradonians and Harry was her second in command. To all appearances, he was madly in love with her and would only do her bidding. To invite him to the main Isle was asking to be infiltrated and destroyed from the inside. They wanted young children, less likely to be jaded and easier to mold to be good citizens. 

So Harry wasn’t allowed to come over now. Ben told him with a heavy heart, sorrow written across his face. Carlos didn’t give a shit. He held his anger enough to leave Ben’s office without a single word, sprinting straight to the forest. 

Once he broke the tree line, he ran harder and faster until his eyes watered from the cold air rushing at them. When his legs couldn’t support that any longer, he collapsed to the ground, punching into the dirt over and over again. The pain was a good excuse for the tears flowing down his cheeks. 

Harry wasn’t coming. He would probably never see Harry again.

Uma wasn’t on the Isle, which meant Harry would be in charge of the pirates. The other gangs would have tried it on by now, all attacking while Uma was gone.

Harry could be dead right now. He could be dead, and Carlos wouldn’t even know. 

Carlos gave the ground one last punch before collapsing in on himself, curling into a sobbing ball.

He pulled the fabric from his pocket that he’d stolen what felt like years ago but had been only hours earlier. Gripping his pilfered bandanna tightly, he inhaled the scent of Harry. Leather, salt, rum and sweat. No scent had ever been so comforting for the young de Vil boy, though it was bittersweet in it’s soothing. 

Harry wasn’t coming. He’d never see Harry again. This bandanna he had stolen from the pirate’s room that morning was all he’d ever have to remember him by. 

Harry wasn’t coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. So, um, hi. The reviews I've had for this story have been so overwhelming- one or two have even reduced me to tears. Life's been pretty hectic lately, and I've had no urge to write whatsoever. It was the reviews that got me thinking about it once again, so a massive thank you to everybody who encouraged me to continue on. Two deaths in the family plus covid plus a friend's dad being rushed to hospital... turns out writing helped me forget all of that for a while.
> 
> That being said, my goodness does this story just do what it pleases. None of this was planned- in fact every plan I had has been ruined now by what the boys just decided to do. So I'm winging it entirely. (Carlos wasn't meant to leave the Isle without Harry... yeah. That happened.) Any suggestions are welcome :) 
> 
> So again, huge thanks to anybody who read this and enjoyed it. You guys are my rock.


	11. Chapter 11

The next month dragged for Carlos. Going to classes had been easy, something he could do on autopilot. Only nobody had told them it was summer vacation, so there were no more classes. All of a sudden their busy, scheduled days were free. No more constant supervision, no more lack of personal time- it was like a complete one-eighty. They were expected to show up for three meals a day. That was it.

Summer school was a thing for the ten or so students that had actually managed to fail the year. A few clubs were still meeting and a lot of the students had gone home to their families, but those remaining just… had fun. All day long, whatever they wanted. Food was simply handed to them three times a day and they could do as they pleased around that. There was still a curfew, but even the Auradon kids were ignoring that now. They would sneak around after dark, making an absolute racket and causing the Isle kids to actually twitch in irritation. They didn’t know the meaning of being silent, for evil’s sake. 

The new situation was really, really weird and off-putting. Carlos couldn’t adjust to it and was beyond thankful when Evie surprised them; by announcing she’d actually bought a castle and they could all move in with her.

Carlos occupied himself with odd jobs around the place, keeping his hands and mind busy as he repaired broken door frames and rewired the old building. Anything that needed doing, he was on it. He couldn’t sit still, couldn’t just do nothing. He didn’t understand how anybody could.

At least at school he had a schedule, things he had to do at a set time. It was structured, he knew what was expected- even if it made him feel crowded. There were rules and consequences should he decide to break them. This having nothing to do was abnormal; he couldn’t process it.

The only times in his life he’d had this much downtime, his mother had kicked him out of the house. He normally spent the time in his treehouse (fixing things to keep Jay off his back, inventions he could sell for food or hanging out with Harry) but it was always with a sense of foreboding hanging over his head. Any free time was always followed by a punishment. The longer the free time, the worse the punishment.

Maybe that was why every night when he put down his tools he felt fear race down his spine. Any noise made him jump and every shadow was a nightmare waiting to get him. He was tense, jittery, and couldn’t relax at all. At least when he was working he could concentrate on the job at hand, focus on that and nothing else. 

Forget that he’d never see Harry again.

On the first morning in the new place they had realised that there would be no prepared meals like there had been at the school, so a roster was implemented for cooking and cleaning. Of course, Jay and Mal had talked their way out of every single turn they’d each been assigned so far- not that Carlos put up much of a fight. He’d always done the cooking at home for his mother and even though the ingredients were seriously different here, it was so much easier to end up with an edible result. It also kept him busy.

Jay spent a lot of his time out in the forest, running and climbing to keep fit for tourney. Carlos could guarantee nobody else on the team was training that intensely, but he also knew Jay had spent his life running and leaping from buildings. Sitting down was just a foreign concept for the ex-thief. Well, mostly ex, he still nicked a few items here and there. (Carlos still wandered the school scattering said items about to make them appear misplaced and not stolen). 

Evie spent her days in her own personal bliss, designing and making outfits from her very own castle. Her boyfriend- Doug- was there most days helping her take orders and delivering finished products. Carlos hadn’t seen Evie so happy before, with nobody to criticise her appearance or actions she was flourishing. Doug being so obviously in love with her was quite adorable too, as Evie seemed to be the only one who couldn’t see how smitten he was. 

Mal split her time between royal duties with Ben and relaxing around the house. She had no issue sitting around and doing nothing, particularly if Ben was there and they were sharing a couch. Carlos definitely noticed the paint fumes coming from Mal’s room after being told they could decorate their rooms how they pleased. More murals on the walls, he guessed, which meant she was back to her artistic pastime. 

Everybody was doing their own thing, so it was easy enough to smile and engage during meals. He didn’t have to keep up the happy act for long before they dispersed once again, back to their own activities. 

Nights were the worst, he found. He had a bed, something he was getting used to. But the anxiety left him wide awake, listening for sounds that weren’t there and threats that didn’t exist. Sometimes he could even smell her- musty furs, cigarettes and all. For a while he’d been able to counter that with the scent from Harry’s bandanna that he’d pilfered from the pirate’s room, but that had worn off quickly. Now it offered more of a scent memory, as just holding it conjured the scent in his mind's eye (nose?). But the longer this downtime dragged out, the worse his nights got. Something in his brain just couldn’t accept that there was no punishment coming. Even if he could force himself to relax, he just ended up thinking about Harry.

Carlos was in the back garden, repaving the little path- the pavers had been really sunken and uneven. He worried about the girls breaking an ankle on them, so he’d decided to relay them nice and flat. That, and there was nothing left to fix inside. Anyway, he was in the middle of his self-appointed chore when Ben poked his head out the back door, looking about until he spotted the younger teen.

“Carlos! Hey man. Uh, I need to talk to you guys about something, could you maybe come inside?”

And so he followed the taller teen into the living room, where he joined Mal on the sofa. Evie was on the matching one with Jay sprawled across it and her with his traditional complete lack of personal space. Carlos sat on the floor, not bothered enough to drag another chair around. 

Ben cleared his throat, obviously nervous about what he had to say.

“Okay. So, here it is. We already know one of the kids coming over is Dizzy Tremaine. But for the other three, we’re going to run a sort of competition. We want you guys to go over there and stir up good-will towards this project, get the locals interested.”

Jay snorted. “You don’t want the locals interested, trust me.”

Ben sighed. “I know, I tried to tell them that. But, well, nobody really understands the Isle. I’ve _been_ there, and I’m the first to admit I don’t get it. That’s why I’d like your help. You grew up there, you get it in a way nobody else can. We want to find the right kids, the ones that can live here and be better off for it. We don’t want to take anyone who won’t adjust, who could be a danger. I also don’t want to rip loving families apart- what if I pick someone happy to be there, but miss the kid that _needs_ to get out?”

Evie clapped her hands together. “Perfect. So we’ll stir the kids up, get them to fill out a form or something to show how much they want it.”

Mal shrugged. “Or you could just ask us who. I already told you who I want over here.”

Ben smiled at her, completely smitten. “I know, but this is the fair way to do it. So will you guys do this? It means going back there a few times- once to stir interest, once to announce winners, and then again to pick them up. The more public this is, the less the parents can meddle like yours did.”

The afternoon was spent in discussion, making plans and strategies for dealing with the citizens of the Isle. Carlos was mostly quiet, only speaking up when prompted or if Ben started to look at him with too much concern in his gaze. 

He knew the King thought he was struggling, talking about bringing over kids who weren't Harry. And he was. 

But he was also planning on how to ditch his duties the moment his feet hit that Island. He might not be able to get Harry out of there, but he could at least see him, maybe leave a parcel for him. 

~~~~~~~++++++++++++~~~~~~~~

Two days later they were climbing into the limo, Carlos clutching a backpack to his chest. He’d told the others it was food to give to the orphans. Which it was. But it also had things for Harry, things Carlos had always wanted for the older boy but never been able to give him before. 

The padded grip for his hook was his favorite. He’d looked for as long as he’d been friends with the older boy, but never found anything that would do the job. But now he had it, he was sure it’d be a perfect fit as well. So even if his fix-job on that handle let go (which it was bound to have by now), Harry’s hand would be protected. 

Ben was joining them for the trip- it seemed he had enjoyed the Isle and was ready for another taste. The strange, strange lad. He kept a polite conversation with Evie as the rest of them remained silent, staring out the limo windows and lost in their own thoughts. Returning to the place they’d grown up- even for this good reason- was not ideal. They needed to revert to their Isle personas; even if they’d grown and changed since those days, their new selves wouldn’t protect them on the Isle. They needed to harden their hearts and put some steel to their spines. The Isle was a horrid place, they just needed to remember they weren’t staying and they'd get through this. 

The limo made quick work of the bridge, always seeming faster to arrive than it did to depart. They drew a lot of attention as they climbed out, though Ben and Mal were the figureheads. Carlos waited until Ben was mid-speech, letting the residents know of his grand plan. 

Tapping Jay on the shoulder, Carlos indicated to the side with his head and grinned. “I’m off to Orphan Alley. Later!”

Jay grabbed his arm, halting his departure as he pulled him in close to speak quietly just beside Carlos’ ear. “Are you armed?”

The younger boy nodded, flashing three fingers. Meaning, three weapons. He should’ve realised Jay would be less likely to let him wander on his own after their last trip to the Isle. In his defense, he didn’t plan on going to the chip shop today. That had just been pure stupidity on his part.

Jay hummed, letting his grip on Carlos’ bicep go. “Be careful. I don’t wanna have to save you again.”

Carlos scoffed but let it go, merging into the crowd before spearing off and jogging through the streets. He _was_ actually headed to Orphan Alley, that hadn’t been a lie.

He just didn’t plan on remaining there.

~~~~~~~~~+++++++++++~~~~~~~~~

“Hey guys! Who wants to get the hell off of this rock?”

A few kids scoffed at him before one looked closer. “Wait. You’re that de Vil kid, right? You went to Auradon didn’t you?”

Carlos nodded, holding back his smile as much as he could. These kids had nothing to smile about, it’d be shitty of him to come here and rub his wonderful life in.

Which didn’t stop the kids from swarming him, touching his new clothes and tidy bag- little hands trying to empty out pockets. He’d already made sure they couldn’t get anything important, and filled those pockets with money and sweets. If it helped these kids, he didn’t care if they stole it from him.

He’d be disappointed if they didn’t.

“Alright, alright. So here’s the deal. How many of you can read and write?”

A little over half of the twenty or so kids in front of him indicated they could. Nobody raised a hand- that was an Auradon thing. These kids either nodded or called out, one girl jumping about excitedly.

“Okay. So four kids are going to get to leave here. To be in the running, you gotta fill out a form. I want anybody who can to help those who can’t- no cheating and no sabotage. We want to get the kids that really need it outta here. Nobody else should have to die here, not if we can stop it. There will be more after this lot- the most urgent first. Cool?”

When the group answered in the affirmative, Carlos directed them to the limo where all the copies of the form were. One kid he held back though, one he knew and who had said he could read, so Carlos knew he wasn’t ruining his chances by holding him up. 

“Hey, I’ve got two tins of beans here, if you do a job for me.”

The kid’s dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. Carlos expected nothing less from him. He had recognised the boy - nobody knew who his parents were. This was one of the babies that randomly appeared in Orphan Alley, surviving only if the older kids took it upon themselves to care for and raise another orphan. So obviously, he knew a thing or two about hard times and survival.

He was about four years younger than Carlos, dark hair falling into brown eyes. He went by the name of ‘Peter’. Carlos had always wondered if somebody had been poking fun at Hook senior when they gave him that name.

“These posters need to go up around here. I’ve got glue for you, you can keep what’s left and the brush when you’re done. I’ll be back before noon to check, just before we leave. Deal?”

Peter gazed at the items offered to him, looking doubtful. 

“I’m good for it man. But if you’re just going to steal the glue, could you let me know? I really need those posters up.”

“Yeah, alright. If you go back on this, I’ll hunt ya down.”

Carlos nodded firmly, knowing little Peter wasn't joking. Two tins of beans may not mean much to Carlos these days, but that was two days worth of food for Peter. Carlos remembered what it felt like to always be hungry, to work for food only to be denied. He wouldn’t wish that on anybody.

Leaving the alley, Carlos checked his watch. He had three hours to himself, now that he’d managed to enlist somebody to put his posters up for him. 

What? Nobody had specified that he had to hang around and be the one to do it. Although he figured they all, though possibly not Ben, expected him to be right there pasting up posters.

Well, Carlos had far more important things to be doing. Like getting himself seen heading for Hell Hall, for starters.

~~~~~~~~+++++++++++~~~~~~~~~

It was a risk. His mother could spot him, Harry could not be the pirate sent to check on him, he could get killed in a random mugging gone wrong. Life on the Isle was a huge risk, and he found it settling into his blood as he ducked and dodged his way through town to Hell Hall.

Yup, he was going home. Or rather, he was going beside his old home. He had thought about this a lot, finally concluding that his treehouse would be the best option. Hopefully, anybody who had beef with them would be back in town, creating a fuss around the others. Anybody wanting to hurt him would never dream he’d actually visit his mother- it was no secret how she’d always treated him. 

Only one person would believe any sightings saying he was headed home. Harry. His pirate was smart enough to connect the dots and know he would be headed to the treehouse. He hoped, at least.

And if not, if Harry didn’t show up to see him, then Carlos could still leave the items he had in the hiding spot under the floorboards. Harry might find them and nothing was perishable anyway. There were so many things he’d discovered in Auradon that he wished to share with the older teen- all the different fresh fruits were definitely high on the list, but given that he’d only been able to grab what was at Evies castle he’d not been able to grab much in the way of fruit. Not that he would’ve anyway. 

Tins would last a lot longer and were easier to store. Much more practical. He’d managed to pick up some tins of pear and lychee (which he’d never heard of before, but thought Harry might get a kick out of the name), along with some tins of fruit salad. He’d also grabbed some biscuits- not the sugary sweet ones, but the savory ones that could work as a meal on their own in a pinch. Also, a can of fizzy drink. No nutritional value at all, but he reckoned it would be worth it to see the pirate’s face when he discovered the bubbles. Any fizzy they’d ever tried on the Isle had been completely flat. He’d never known it was meant to have bubbles, and he doubted Harry knew either.

Carlos came back to the present suddenly, feeling the brush of a hand against his leg. He grinned, knowing the coins he’d stashed there were going to a better cause. But his grip tightened on the backpack. No way was anybody getting the items he had for Harry.

All too soon, the gloomy shadow of Hell Hall became visible, the building itself looming up over him. Shivers ran down his spine as Carlos immediately slowed his progress, sticking to shadows and making damn sure he couldn’t be seen from inside. Her car was there, looking dirty and dusty. Like hell was he going to clean that fucking car ever again, his mother could absolutely  _ not _ find him. 

Then again, after what he had done, cleaning the car was the best possible punishment he could hope for- even in the middle of a thunderstorm as he’d had to so very long ago.

Skirting around the house, creeping under windows (that were so dirty and smoke-stained he needn’t have bothered hiding) and being careful not to make a single damn sound; Carlos found himself staring up at what- for most of his life- had been his salvation. A collection of mismatched planks and rails, nailed together in such a way he honestly was surprised it still held.

His rope ladder wasn’t dangling down, nor was it stored in the pile of junk at the base of the tree trunk where he sometimes had kept it. Undeterred, Carlos started to climb the tree- well familiar with the hand and foot-holds he could use to scale it. The metal sign he used to keep bad weather out was covering the entrance, so he had to use one hand to try and push it away while the other clung to the tree for dear life.

He was lucky he had gained some muscle in the last few months, otherwise he wasn’t certain he’d have been able to manage with the extra weight of his bag- but he had and he did. The sign shifted enough to let him grab the edge of the opening, which meant he could easily finish moving it aside once he had a decent grip. 

His bag was slung into the gap, making swinging himself up and in after it much easier without it’s weight hindering his actions. He paused on his knees, quickly checking for any company. Once assured he was alone, Carlos gave the space a closer once-over. Nothing appeared to have moved from where he left it, though his tattered blanket was crumpled up in the corner, not neatly folded as he would’ve expected. 

Replacing the metal cover (in case Cruella decided to try and see if he were there), Carlos couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. A stupid, childish part of himself had hoped to find Harry here, waiting for him. He’d known that wouldn’t be the case, but felt the sting regardless. 

Attempting to shake the melancholy off, he busied himself with his old belongings, inspecting them and mentally comparing them to what he now owned, back at Evie's castle. There was no competition, though the sentimental value of a few items balanced the scales a bit. Maybe these tools were shit, falling to pieces and barely functional, but they all had stories behind them. He hadn’t just asked for them, or gone to the shops and paid cash for a nice new spanner.

No- he’d stolen this one from Jafar’s shop out of desperation once when the oven had stopped working and he needed to fix it before Cruella found out. Or that hammer, the handle wasn’t the original and if you hit too hard with it the head was likely to go flying off. But Harry had given it to him one day after stealing it from the barge goblins. Just because Carlos had mentioned how annoying it was to use a block of wood as a hammer.

Every single thing he had here, he’d earned. Every item had blood, sweat or tears behind it, most often it was all three mixed together. Auradon was easy, simple. The Isle was hard, you hard to fight for every scrap you had. He was proud of everything he’d achieved here. From staying alive, to the machines he had built- Carlos was proud. He was a survivor, and he would survive this separation from Harry.

Even if he didn’t see him today, he would eventually. And they would get off of this shit hole, the both of them together. Carlos wouldn’t allow any other outcome. 

~~~~~~~~++++++++++~~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo that happened. This just wrote itself, I kind of just turned off my brain and let it all come out. And then spent hours trying to edit it into something that made sense. But hey, a bit less of a wait between chapters :)  
> I'm excited for more Harry, I don't like when he's not around, so let's hope he shows up soon. And no, that's not a hint. These boys do as they please haha.  
> Thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

Waiting to see if Harry would appear (or anybody else for that matter, though Harry was the only one  _ welcome _ ) was agonising. Every second that ticked away made his skin itch in impatience though Carlos did his best to pass the time working on his old projects, 

One thing Auradon prep had helped him with was understanding electronics better. Having text books that weren’t damaged or missing pages made it so much easier to study; though Carlos couldn’t care less about his grades. He just liked to know how things worked. If he knew how they worked, he could fix them or make his own (better) version. 

All those nights he’d been unable to sleep when they first left the Isle, he’d read books. Course books, library books, whatever had been to hand. Anything to keep his mind occupied, to block out the thoughts and memories of  _ her _ .

As much as he tried to be patient, any random sound or wind gust had him pausing, head cocked as he listened for any sign of company. He’d not hidden where he was headed- needing word of mouth to get back to Harry that he was headed to Hell Hall. Of course, that was banking on the fact that Harry would think of the treehouse and nobody else would think him stupid enough to be so close to Hell Hall.

In fact, if something went wrong he was completely screwed. Nobody knew where he actually was, the others all believing him to be at Orphan Alley sticking posters up. Only Ben would even suspect that he would want to be off on his own and the King had no idea where he might go, wouldn’t even know this treehouse existed.

Shivering, he clutched the screw-driver tighter in his grip. It was worth the risk, to maybe see Harry. It was worth pretty much  _ any  _ risk. Even just to leave the supplies here in the  _ hope _ Harry would receive them, made it worth it. He owed Harry so much, for leaving him here. For how Harry let them escape the last time they’d seen each other. How he’d gone easy on Jay and Ben, sacrificing his pride and reputation just enough to let Carlos and his friends escape. 

Carlos wasn’t dumb, he knew what a big deal that was. Harry’s pride and reputation were all he had here. That he’d risked them- actually let himself be defeated in battle  _ twice _ for Carlos’ sake… It meant that no matter how bad it looked, no matter how pissed he was at Carlos for leaving, there was hope. 

Harry could forgive him, one day. That was worth any and every effort Carlos could make. 

And while he sat here waiting, he was going to fix this bloody radio. He’d been fixing it for years, fusing and refusing the wires to make it work for a few weeks. But now he understood where he’d been going wrong and if he could just find the right connection, he could fix it permanently. 

~~~~~~~~+++++++++++++~~~~~~~~~

An hour had crept by, taking Carlos’ hope and enthusiasm with it. He knew it wasn’t likely Harry would find him, not in the limited time he had to be here. But he’d gotten his hopes up regardless. The longer it took, the lower his head dropped until he gave up tinkering. The young de Vil settled into the chair behind his desk (which felt a lot more cramped than it had the last time he’d sat there) and he stared blankly at the wall, fingers worrying at a certain scrap of fabric he’d had wrapped around his upper left arm, under the leather jacket Evie had made for him. 

The red bandanna had completely lost its scent, so he’d taken to wearing it on his person at all times. Not to mention that the others couldn’t be trusted not to snoop about his room (it was a habit, for all of them. He’d been halfway through Jay’s room the other day before releasing he had no idea  _ why _ he was doing so) making it safer to keep with him and not left lying about for sticky fingers. 

Evil only knew what he would do if he saw Jay wearing Harry’s bandanna. He was pretty sure the barrier would fall- and Hades would summon hell to earth- should that happen, anyway. 

Another noise from outside had him pausing. Probably just somebody passing down the street. 

But then the metal sign moved. Carlos was frozen as he watched the sign slide back enough to allow passage for a body. Then a hand gripped onto the ledge, and Carlos’ heart just about beat out of his chest. 

Was it- Could it be? Another hand shot up into the room, before the arm attached to it used the floor as leverage to pull the body in. The hand, clad in well worn, black leather gloves (missing most of the fingers). A very nice arm, well muscled, uncovered (thankfully).

And then the body, that was now crouched on the floor of Carlos’ treehouse next to the entrance. That body that Carlos would know anywhere, be able to pick out of any crowd. It was Harry, he’d actually come.

So of course, Carlos was completely frozen to the spot, and couldn’t make a sound if he tried. Instead, he just sat and watched as the older teen recovered the entrance hole, remaining on his knees. His back was to Carlos, so he was unaware of the other boy’s presence. 

And then Carlos realised he was holding the stolen bandanna, which somehow unfroze his body as he desperately shoved it into his pocket. Possessions were hard to come by on the Isle- the pirate wouldn’t be happy to have been stolen from. 

His sudden movement was quite loud in the otherwise silent space, causing Harry to twist around, hook held at the ready. 

The two boys stared at one another for a long moment, Carlos just drinking in the sight of his bigger, older friend. 

Eventually, he found his voice. “H.. Hey, Harry.” 

Perfect. Perfect time for his voice to crack. Typical.

Harry sat back on his haunches, staring at Carlos like he was an experiment to be studied. 

“I heard ye were around here, but didn’t really think it was true. What on earth are ye doin’ so close to  _ her _ ?”

He didn’t need to specify who- they both knew he meant Carlos’ mother, Cruella.

“Well, last time I went looking for you didn’t end so well. So, I figured this might work and it was worth the risk to see you.”

Harry looked confused. “Last time? What last time?”

Carlos cocked his head, wondering what he was missing. “The last time I was here? When I went looking for you and got captured, held on your ship, ringing any bells?”

“You were looking for  _ me _ ?”

“Um, yeah. Why else would I have been at the chip shop? It certainly wasn’t for the warm welcome.”

Harry threw his head back and laughed, but it wasn’t his true cheerful laugh. This one had undercurrents of pain and anger running through it, making it grittier and harsher.

“We thought you were trying to find the King. I never could work out why they sent you and not Jay. Made no sense- he’s better at sneaking and more able to fight his way out.”

Anybody in Auradon would’ve sugar coated that, or said ‘no offense’. Not Harry, not any Isle kid. They called it how they saw it, Harry especially so. It made Carlos so glad to hear that Harry hadn’t changed that much in their time apart.

“Heh, no. They wouldn’t have sent me for that, definitely a job for Jay. I split from them when Ben was safely with the group, I went looking for you. I guess I did find you, in a round-about way.” He grinned at the older teen, unable to keep himself from staring at that face.

Age had merely made him more handsome; his jawline was as sharp as ever, though his eyes were harder and his cheeks slightly less rounded- not enough food to support all that muscle perhaps. The eyeliner today was present, slightly thicker than what Carlos considered ‘normal’, though not as thick as a ‘warpaint’ day.

“ _ You _ found  _ me? _ ”

Carlos shrugged. “Well, yeah.”

Harry snorted. “Ye’re bloody dreaming.  _ I  _ found  _ you _ , in the  _ cell _ of the ship.”

“Okay Harry.” He couldn’t help it- he knew that giving in suddenly and easily like that drove Harry mad. The man liked to win, but he liked to earn it. He’d so missed messing with the pirate.

Harry’s eyes narrowed and he shuffled to lean forward on his knees as he stared intently at Carlos. 

“The question is, what’re ye doing here now, Ki… Carlos?”

That hurt. Carlos flinched at hearing his own name from Harry, who hadn’t called him anything but Kit or Kitten since the day he’d dubbed him so. Then he braced himself. He had to give bad news to a rather volatile guy- he was sure to be called much worse before he left this room.

“Okay. So, things are all sorts of fucked up. Ben’s finally bringing over more kids, only he can’t bring you because you’re Uma’s first mate and too much of a risk, not after she attacked them all. I’m sorry Harry, I really did try to get your name at the top of the list. But I figure, the limo will be coming and going a few times, so maybe we can stow you in the boot or something, sneak you outta here.”

That was when Harry truly surprised him. Carlos had anticipated yelling, violence, had even been prepared for Harry to storm away for good. But the pirate just sighed, before moving to lean against the wall with his legs stretched out in front of him- the way he’d spent so much of his time in this space in the past.

He stared at Carlos for a while, before he muttered a ‘fuck it’ and sighed heavily once more, before finally speaking.

“I figured as much. I know ye said yer King was gonna get me outta here, but after Uma left I knew they’d never take me. She buggers off, I have to run her fucking crew, and my shot at getting off o’ this shitheap is gone.”

He sounded so resigned, so downtrodden that it almost physically hurt Carlos. This was not his Harry. This was not the boy who used to look after him, the guy who could barely sit still and had brought so much joy to Carlos over their friendship. This was not the guy who’s public persona was so feared, even adults ran from him.

“Fuck that.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, danger seeping from his pores. Carlos paused, assessing the danger before setting his resolve. Harry needed a push to find his former self and Carlos didn’t have time to be gentle. If he ended up getting hooked for this… well, at least he’d die by Harry’s hand. He always feared his mother would be the last face he’d see.

“You may be stuck here for now Harry, but I will get you out of here if it kills me. I promised you, and I keep my promises. Last week I thought I would never see you again. Well, fuck that.”

Harry snarled, looking more like his old self then Carlos had seen so far. “You think it’s that bloody easy, aye? You think I can walk on outta here without looking back, like yo… like Uma did? Well I can’t, okay?! She left me with a whole crew to look after, a bunch of kids that need watchin’ and feedin’. She may be able to just abandon them, but I can’t. I can’t leave ‘em.”

Carlos’ heart clenched. By the end of the speech, Harry’s voice was barely a whisper, his head hung low to hide his face. He hadn’t missed the slip up, either. Harry was still hurting from when he’d left without so much as a word, and then Uma had gone and done the exact same thing to him. They’d obviously both left a mark on the older teen’s heart, which he would insist didn’t even exist. Carlos resolved to do whatever he could for Harry, anything that would help him. He owed him that much.

“So... you’re looking after the pirates then? What does that make you, Daddy Hook?”

That got a smile from that older boy, as he glanced up to tell Carlos to fuck off.

Carlos considered it progress, more so when he realised the atmosphere was less charged between them. He stood, stretching his back out a bit before grabbing his bag and moving to sit beside the pirate.

Who was laughing at him, a full laugh like the old days. Problem was, Carlos wasn’t sure  _ why _ he was laughing. 

“Harry? Harry? Hook, for fucks sake, what’s so funny?”

He had settled into his spot, was leaning comfortably against the wall and opening his bag by the time Harry calmed down enough to explain. 

“Oh man, ye’r so damned  _ short _ ! Ye can still stand in here, ye  _ midget! _ ”

And he was off again, too busy laughing to talk- but that didn’t stop him from gesturing to get his point across.

Carlos pouted, but really he kinda loved it. Harry had always teased him for being short, and it just felt  _ normal _ now. But then he realised what the pirate was trying to say, and the pout became real. 

Harry could no longer stand inside the treehouse, as he was officially too tall to do so without hitting his head. That was why he’d never stood up since arriving- he knew he couldn’t. Carlos had just stretched out and not even brushed the roof. Bastard. Tall bastard. He really wanted to stand next to him, just to see what their height difference was now. He knew he’d shot up since leaving the Isle, but obviously so had Harry.

Carlos checked the time on his watch before elbowing Harry in the ribs. Sharply.

“Oi. I’ve only got another hour and a half before I have to get back. So, I’ve got some stuff for you. I was just gonna leave it here if you didn’t come, in the hope that you’d find it.”

Harry perked up at that. “Goodies, fer me?”

The younger boy giggled. “Yes, for you. I thought you might like some of this.”

He handed over the food, knowing without a doubt that it would be appreciated. No Isle kid was a picky eater- there was no chance Harry wouldn’t like anything edible. The way he immediately tore open a pack of crackers and stuffed a handful into his mouth confirmed to Carlos that his suspicions had been right; Harry wasn’t getting enough to eat. Not that it was much of a surprise.

Then he considered how much he ate at every meal now, compared it to how much Jay could put away, and realised that Harry should be eating about the same as the ex-thief, given his size. There was no way anybody on the Isle was eating that well, let alone a teenager trying to run a gang of pirates. Carlos’ chest hurt, thinking of how hungry Harry must’ve been as he himself sat there in Auradon, stuffing his face three times a day.

He put the fizzy drink to the side for the moment, and then started to hand over the other items he grabbed. Batteries- which were always in high demand. Pens, with a pad of blank paper. Even if Harry didn’t use them, he could barter with them for a decent price. Carlos knew unused items were always at a premium here, even simple things like pens and paper.

Harry accepted it all quietly, simply putting them beside himself on the floor. Carlos wasn’t hurt- he knew Harry was a man of pride and taking ‘hand-outs’ wasn’t his style. Gifts weren’t exactly common on the Isle, either- though he’d given Carlos enough in the past he couldn’t say shit about Carlos returning the favor now.

Carlos’ hand wrapped around the grip he’d gotten for Harry’s hook, suddenly feeling nervous about it. 

“Uhm, this might seem a little silly.”

The pirate put down the pen he’d been playing with, his attention solely on Carlos now. “What is it?”

His hand reached out, but Carlos shifted the bag so it was better guarded on his lap, leaving Harry’s hand to rest on his forearm. He immediately broke out in goosebumps at the pirate’s touch.

He’d forgotten how warm Harry’s hands always felt, even if it was just his fingers poking out of those gloves.

“Well, you remember how… All of this started? When I fixed your hook? Well, I was thinking about that a lot. And I reckon it can’t have held out this long. And I was worried about your hand, how you’d said you nearly lost the fight when it first broke. So… I got this.”

He slowly pulled the soft grip out, holding it close before ducking his head and thrusting it towards the other boy. He was pretty sure his face was going to burst into flame any moment now.

What sort of idiot was he? Harry didn’t need a bloody grip for his Hook, he was wearing gloves for evil’s sake, he probably thought Carlos was the most retarded little moron he’d ever-

“Kit. Is this.. I… Thank ye.” The pirate’s voice was soft, surprised and thankful. 

Surprise drew Carlos’ head up. That wasn’t a tone he’d ever heard Harry use, and he was fairly convinced the older boy didn’t even know what ‘thank you’ meant, let alone had ever  _ said _ it. 

“So, you don’t think it’s stupid?”

Harry grabbed his hook from where it had been hanging at his hip, turning it over in his hands before holding it out to Carlos, handle first. Carlos was struck by deja vu, thinking of how this had all begun between them- Harry trusting him with his most prized possession, and in this same treehouse. 

“Ye weren’t wrong about it breaking again. I tired ta use the stuff ye fixed it with last time, but it’s all dried up and solid. So I’ve just been ignoring it.”

He twisted the hook to show the break, which looked worse than Carlos remembered. Then Carlos grabbed Harry’s hand, twisting it to show the palm of his glove; the leather of which was pretty badly gouged, completely cut through in some places. 

“Oh Harry.”

Taking the grip, he gently placed it over the hook- making sure to be as gentle as he could be, out of respect if nothing else. It fit perfectly, though he’d expected no less- he would never forget the few times he had held Harry’s hook. Moments that special stayed with you for life, which meant he could recall every tiny detail about Harry’s precious hook whenever he pleased. 

Once the grip was firmly in place, he handed it back to Harry. Who immediately grabbed it, testing it out and waving it around in the air. 

“Wow, it’s like new again Kit!”

The rush of emotion at hearing that surprised Carlos, though it was such a good feeling. It was so natural for him to shuffle closer, into Harry’s side as the older teen lifted his arm to drape over his shoulders. 

They sat in silence, Harry putting his hook down with his pile of new belongings so he could lace his fingers through Carlos’, hands resting on their legs. 

In that moment, everything felt so right, so complete. 

They both pretended not to hear the clock ticking away precious seconds until their time together ran out.

++++++~~~~~~~~~++++++++

Carlos shifted slightly, not exactly comfortable but refusing to leave a moment before he had to. He was still tucked into Harry’s side, his hand still holding the older teens- and as Harry gently ran his thumb across Carlos’ skin, shivers ran down his spine. 

They hadn’t said anything else, just been sitting with each other, enjoying the human contact. Carlos knew Harry was never this close with anybody else, and even in Auradon he himself didn’t get this close. Jane had hugged him a few times, but it didn’t feel anything even remotely close to this. 

Harry being so gentle with him, so warm and comforting and safe.. It took his breath away even as his heart swelled inside of his chest. 

He startled a little as the older teen began to hum, reminding Carlos of the few times he’d heard it before. Mostly when he was injured- physically or mentally didn’t seem to matter. Harry just somehow knew when Carlos was in a bad place and couldn’t talk. He’d always just hummed until he felt Carlos was ready to talk- and normally he was spot on. 

Something twanged in his chest as he thought of everything the older pirate had done for him, all the little things that Carlos may not have noticed or understood at the time. Once Harry finished the song and was (probably) thinking of what to hum next, Carlos spoke up.

“So, Harry. Uh. I really missed this. I missed you.”

The arm around him twitched, not that Carlos was surprised. That had been a very open and vulnerable confession for any Isle kid, let alone for one with the rep Harry had built for himself. You didn’t get a reputation like his by caring about others, and missing them. 

Obviously uncomfortable, the pirate shifted a little where he sat- but thankfully he didn’t remove his arm or let go of Carlos’ hand. The young de Vil expected him to stay silent, ignoring the emotional declaration. He was okay with that, he knew Harry wouldn’t be here with him if he didn’t care. He didn’t need the older boy to say anything aloud. 

Which was why he was so surprised when the older teen, obviously out of his element and acting as fidgety as ever, spoke up.

“Uh. Yeah. I, uh. I missed ye too, Kit.”

Warmth blossomed in his own chest as Carlos buried his face in Harry’s solid chest, dropping the pirate’s hand so he could cling around his neck in a tight hug. Even with all the cuddling and sleeping together they’d shared, the two boys could count how many hugs they’d shared on one hand.

Carlos knew his face was on fire, even as he used the opportunity to realise how broad and firm Harry was. His arms were clinging to the older boy’s shoulders, his face pressing into his pecs. (He absolutely did not rub his face into them like a cat) He was not complaining, at all. He was actually surprised to be so comfortable, given how firm the muscles were. But he was comfortable, wrapped around Harry as he was, all he could smell was the older boy and honestly, Carlos could happily spend the rest of his life right here. 

“Well, well. What have we here. Kit?”

Carlos pulled back in confusion, to get a look at what Harry was going on about. That was about when his heart skipped a beat, his face got even  _ warmer _ and he lost all thought process.

Harry had pulled his bandanna from Carlos’ pocket, where he had shoved it in a hurry earlier. Obviously, he hadn’t done a good enough job of that (or he had and the older boy had just decided to see what was in his pocket. Either option was just as likely) and now Harry knew he’d stolen from him. Bugger.

“Oh, uh, that. Yeah. I um, I just found it. And, uh, kept it.” Kill him. Kill him now. Nobody had ever been so  _ unsmooth _ , especially not in front of Harry who just seemed to ooze  _ smooth _ , without even trying.

“This is mine, isn’t it? When did ye… Did ye steal from me room, Kit?”

The glee that had lit up Harry’s face lessened the sting of embarrassment for Carlos. Not that he wasn’t still mortified, but it wasn’t as bad knowing Harry found some joy in it.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did. I took your bandanna, after you left the room.”

“Why?”

Carlos shrugged. “It made me think of you. And it smelled like you, at first. I really needed that, especially when Ben said you couldn’t come over with the first batch of kids.”

Surprise ran across Harry’s face, before he grinned, a mixture of mischief and pure indulgence. 

“You stole me bandanna, to smell it?”

Carlos nodded, wishing he could hide his face in Harry’s chest once more, but the older boy was moving too much for that. Instead, he was stuck sitting on his heels in front of Harry, watching as the taller boy removed his hat and bandanna. His hair was sticking out in a way that should look ridiculous, but on the pirate it only made him look even more unbalanced (in a seriously hot way). 

With a killer grin, he held the fabric out.

“What?” Carlos stared at him in confusion, not getting the joke.

“It’s fer you. Take it! I’ll trade for me old one. This one should smell just like me.”

Carlos took the new (well, used, but new to him) bandanna with shaking hands. Placing it gently on the floor beside them, before turning back to face Harry.

“Harry.. Thank you. Thank you!”

Not only had the older boy not mocked the ever-loving life out of him, he’d given him a fresh bandanna to hold on to. Emotions built in his chest and he didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry. Sing or sob. Harry made him so happy, in such a sad way.

He loved this pirate, more than he’d ever dared to admit. He hoped that Harry felt the same, even a little, towards Carlos himself. He didn’t dare to ask, didn’t dare to assume. They were friends (not that they’d ever used that word) and Carlos wouldn’t ruin that for anything.

Which is why instead of throwing himself at the older boy, Carlos wrapped his arms around himself and sat there grinning up at Harry. 

Which is why he was so surprised when Harry suddenly surged forwards, wrapping his tense arms around Carlos and all of a sudden their lips met.

Harry was kissing him. 

Harry fucking Hook. Was kissing. Him.

It took Carlos a few moments to comprehend what was happening, somehow his arms managed to unwind from his own body to clutch at Harry’s sides under his leather jacket. 

He tentatively kissed back, not entirely certain how to, but knowing he wanted more. Harry led the kiss, gently easing his way into Carlos’ mouth, his heart, his soul. He nipped at the younger boy’s bottom lip before pulling away, pressing their foreheads together.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I was really nervous about writing our two boys together- I kinda felt as though I'd built it up too much and it would be a huge let-down.  
> And then I got over myself, wrote this and decided it was good enough. Not to mention, the chapter wanted to end earlier. But I wanted our boys to kiss. So I just kept writing until it happened, because come on, we've been waiting so long, it had to happen!  
> Thank you for all of the support, you guys have been amazing.  
> Also, before I forget. To avoid confusion; now Harry is up to date on the whole Carlos getting caught at the chip shop thing. That doesn't mean Mal and the other VK's are. No, they're still oblivious for now. In case you were wondering.


End file.
